Silent Witness
by bluespiritgal
Summary: Prequel. Young Cartwrights, multip chap fic. Little Joe was supposed to have spent the day at a neighboring ranch while his father was out of town and his older brothers had to work. Something terrible happens and the family needs to band together to protect one of their own. Rated T for violent theme and some language. H/C/Angst. Ch 14 is now up. Now COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Bonanza fic. It's actually a story I've had sitting on my PC for _ages_ but didn't want to post it till I had a decent outline worked out simply because I have a few others posted here that are still hanging incomplete (which I know is annoying to readers). **

**This story is a prequel to the series. (Young Cartwrights)**

**Usual disclaimers: don't own the show or the characters. Written for pure enjoyment. **

**Rated T: (to be safe) for theme and some violence.**

**Hope you enjoy**

**BONANZA FANFICTION: SILENT WITNESS**

**Chapter 1**

"Boy, howdy. I'll be sure happy when we finish this dang near stretch a fence line. I'm gettin' crankier than Lil' Joe bein' rousted out a bed in the mornin' and starvin' to boot!" Hoss grumbled as he tried to stretch the wire taut and nail it to the fence pole.

He and eighteen year old brother, Adam, had been mending this particular nasty stretch of fence line that bordered along a ravine for the last two days, battling the rocky terrain, thick brambles and stiff cool breezes that kicked up the dust and sent shivers down their spines.

Hoss had been allowed to skip school to help out for a few days only because they were extremely shorthanded. Most of the men were either up at the lumber camp or with Charlie rounding up the herd grazing on the north slopes, preparing to drive them down to the greener pastures in the valley. Only a skeletal crew remained to tend to the rest of the duties on the Ponderosa.

The situation wasn't helped any when Adam was forced to fire two hands caught drinking on the job, after they had been previously warned. One of the men by the name of Colvarre, tried to challenge the young Cartwright's authority. "Your Pa hired me on, not you. You ain't go no right to fire me _boy_!" He had taken a swing at Adam, intending to teach the kid a lesson. The ensuing fight lasted several minutes. The other man was big, a few inches taller and heavier than Adam, but Adam was quicker and had one big advantage He was full of Cartwright pride. After exchanging several blows, he decked the man out cold. Panting, sporting a fat lip, and a whale of a black eye to boot, Adam nevertheless stood tall and told the other hand, named Durham, to collect his buddy and leave, and to never set foot on Ponderosa land again. The unconscious wrangler was un-dignifiedly slung sideways over the saddle and hauled away.

And now, four days later, and still shorthanded, the two brothers worked side by side to get the ravine fenced off before Charlie arrived with the herd.

Hoss had been eager to help out. It was a well known fact that Hoss and school never fit very well together, mainly due to his size, but also because "book learnin'" just had never been the middle Cartwright's strongest suit. At least on the ranch, Hoss felt his size was an asset and not a hindrance. Though only thirteen, he was nearly as big and as strong as most adults.

It was Saturday and both brothers were bound and determined to finish the arduous job. At Hoss' comment, Adam let out a groan then an explicative that had his younger brother swiveling his head with an expression on his face that clearly indicated Adam was lucky their Pa hadn't been around to hear. "What'sa matter?"

"Little Joe! I completely forgot about Little Joe," Adam replied.

Hoss' own expression suddenly mirrored his brother. He looked up at the rolling hills that already had long shadows stretching outward. They'd both been so busy struggling to get the last stretch of fence line completed neither had realized just how much time had past. It was well into the late afternoon and in another hour or so the sun would be setting over the hillside.

Their father, Ben, was away on business. He had left very early Friday morning and wasn't expected back until next week. Hop Sing was also out of town visiting another set of distant relatives and wouldn't be back for another four days. Ben had left his eldest son in charge. When Ben realized there wouldn't be any one around doing the day, he made arrangements for the youngest Cartwright to stay with a neighbor while the two older brothers worked.

The night before Ben was due to leave, all three Cartwrights got a full dose of Little Joe's infamous temper at the whole arrangement.

First, when the six year old found out his pa was going out of town for a _whole _week, leaving Adam in charge. He hated it when Adam was in charge. He was always too bossy! Second, when his two brothers told him they had to cancel their plans to take him fishing Saturday morning, after they had already promised! All because they had to string a dumb old fence line before the herd arrived. And lastly, that he couldn't even spend the day with his new best friend Mitch, he just met at school, because he had to go out of town with his family for a dumb wedding!

At that point the short-tempered youngster crossed his arms belligerently and stubbornly informed them all he would just stay home by himself. Ben, of course, told his youngest otherwise. "I'm old enough to take care of myself!" Little Joe argued back.

"I hardly think so," his father replied. "Now quit dawdling and eat your dinner, young man."

"But, Pa," Joe whined. "I don't want to go to Miss Millie's house. She always makes me sit up straight at the table and keep my napkin on my lap the _whole_ time!" His father threw him a stern look and pointed at the child's plate. Reluctantly Little Joe shoved a forkful of food in his mouth.

"Miss Richards is a fine upstanding woman who's just trying to show you some proper manners," Ben told his son. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with my manners!" Little Joe protested through a mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Joseph."

"But you said to eat!"

"Joseph!" Ben's deep voice resonated across the table in a clear warning that he was bordering on the edge of his father's patience. "Miss Richards was very gracious to offer to look after you while your brothers are working and I expect you to be on your best behavior with her, understand?" Little Joe slumped in his seat and mumbled something under his breath. "What was that, Joseph?"

"I said I'll go, but and don't haveta like it and I ain't eatin' no braskel sprouts!"

"It's Brussel sprouts," Adam corrected.

"Shut up, Adam!"

"Joseph Francis Cartwright!" Ben thundered. "That will be quite enough, young man. Unless of course, you wish to continue this conversation outside in the barn with a _necessary _talk?"

Little Joe's eyes bugged out. "No, sir." He slumped further down in his chair and sullenly moved the food around his plate.

Hoss, feeling sorry for his little brother, knowing Little Joe's angry outburst really stemmed from the fact he hated to have Pa away for any length of time, tried to cheer him up. "Looky here, Lil' Joe. It shouldn't take Adam and me no more than a day and half ta finish that fence. We can still take ya fishin' later in the afternoon on Saturday."

The youngster perked up. "Really, Hoss?"

His older brother nodded. "Of course. I done promised ya we'd try out that new pole, didn't I?"

"As long as you mind Miss Millie and me that is, while Pa is gone," Adam had added.

Little Joe rolled his eyes but smiled and nodded just the same. He had been so looking forward to spending the day with _both_ his big brothers, though he wouldn't admit _that_ to Adam. Hoss was also easy going and fun to be with and Joe could always make him laugh. And even though Adam was bossy and stuck up at times, he was smart and knew so many things, and had always been there for him. Despite their differences and their tendency to quarrel, deep down Little Joe admired and looked up to his oldest brother. He also knew Adam would be going away to collage soon. He didn't want Adam to go and the thought of it still made him sad.

Adam easily read the need in Little Joe's expressive green eyes, and his own temperament softened. Though he was excited about the prospect of going away to college, to explore and further his education, at the same time he knew he was going to miss his father, his two brothers and the Ponderosa terribly and wanted this fishing trip with his brothers as much as Joe.

Friday morning came and Little Joe wasn't happy to see his father leaving so early. Still dressed in his nightshirt, his curls still rumpled, he had stood barefoot on the stairs watching Ben sort through last minute paperwork and stuff it into a satchel as he gave Adam last minute instructions. Ben turned to see his little boy standing on the steps, holding onto his favorite stuffed animal, all eyes and full of sadness.

"Come here, Joseph," his father called. Little Joe practically raced down the stairs and into his father's outstretched arms. He buried his head into his father's chest doing his best to hide his tears. Ben forced his son's chin up so Joe was looking at him, his own chocolate eyes soft and understanding of Joe's worry.

Little Joe hugged his father tightly. "Do you really have to go for a _whole_ week, Papa?"

"Yes, Joseph, I'm afraid I must."

"I'm gonna miss you."

"And I'll miss you and your brothers as well, but I'll be back, I promise son."

Little Joe's arms clung to his father, not wanting to let go. Since Marie's death, the youngest Cartwright always felt especially anxious whenever his father had to go away. Ben patted the child's head reassuringly, returning the boy's hug.

Adam reluctantly interrupted. "Pa, if you're going catch that stage, you better get going."

Ben nodded. He gave Joe's shoulders a little squeeze. "You mind Adam and Hoss while I'm away."

"I will."

The youngster watched as Ben climbed aboard the buckboard with Hoss, who would take him to the stage depot on his way to pick up supplies, including more wire needed for the fence. Joe had wanted to go, but Adam said no, that Hoss was going directly from getting the supplies to the job site and Joe need to get ready for school.

Little Joe had just started his first year of school that Fall. It had been a bit of a rough start between the energetic, mischievous child and the teacher, Miss Abigail. The most recent incident had involved the escape of a frog and a spilled well of ink. Luckily Adam was able to smooth out the wrinkles with the prim and proper teacher without too much fuss, negating the necessity of involving their father, something Little Joe was greatly relieved about.

Miss Millie, their neighbor on an adjoining ranch, had graciously offered to pick Joe up after school so Adam wouldn't have to make an extra trip into town. She even offered to keep Joe overnight, knowing the two older brothers would be putting in a full day of hard labor, plus their regular chores around the house, and would be bone weary by the end of the day. But one look at Joe's anxious and bereaved face and Adam had declined. Having their father away was bad enough, but forcing Joe to stay somewhere else overnight other than on the Ponderosa, was clearly more than the six year old could bear. Instead, Adam would bring Joe back early Saturday and promised to pick him up once they got the fence done.

Saturday morning Joe rode up front on Adam's horse, Ranger, a five year old chestnut gelding. The energetic child was excited when Adam gave him the reins. He loved horses and told Adam one day he was going to have the fastest horse around. As they rode, his little brother chatted about anything and everything and Adam couldn't help but smile at how easy it was to please the youngster sometimes. He dropped his little brother off. Joe had been excited to tell Miss Millie about his plans to go fishing with his brothers later that day.

But of course their best made plans had been thwarted at every turn, and what both older brothers had thought would only take them half the day on Saturday at the most to finish, had dragged out well into the late afternoon.

"Little Joe's gonna be madder than a hornet's nest," Hoss said.

Adam sighed. "Couldn't be helped."

"Gonna be gettin' on dusk pretty soon, Adam. One of us better go fetch him up."

"I'll go ahead and do it if you can finish up here by yourself that is."

"Won't take me more 'n a half an hour ta finish stringin' this last batch of wire. You go ahead. I'll meet ya back at the house."

"Sure?"

"I'm sure. Beside, iffin' ya ask me, you're gonna have the harder job."

Hoss grinned and Adam rolled his eyes at the truthfulness to the statement. He could well imagine what kind of mood Little Joe was going to be in by the time he picked him up. He wasn't looking forward to what the rest of his evening was going to be like either dealing with one cranky and angry six year old with a fiery temper. Adam sighed. "Come on, Ranger, best not delay the inevitable."

€#€#€#€

Dusk was beginning to set as Adam crested the rise to the small ranch house and thought it odd that there were no lights lit on the inside of the house. It was also getting chilly out, but no smoke billowed from the chimney. Adam approached the house slowly. It was quiet, almost too quiet. He hitched Ranger up to a post outside and stepped up onto the porch. When he went to knock, the door swung inward. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Drawing his gun, he cautiously pushed the door the rest of the way open with his foot, stepping off to the side. No sound issued forth from within.

"Miss Richards? Little Joe?" No response.

He darted inside, gun poised in front of him. The sight that greeted him increased his alarm. Even in the dimly lit room he could see the main living area was a mess, chairs were tipped over and objects strewn about. He called out sharply to his brother and Miss Millie. Again, no answer. He moved further into the room, saw something lying on the floor. As he drew nearer, he was able to make out a skirt, a pair of legs.

Alarmed, Adam dashed over and crouched down onto his knee. Still gripping his gun, he reached down and shook her arm. "Miss Richards? Millie? Are you okay?" In the dim light, he touched her face and immediately felt a sticky wetness. He withdrew his hand quickly.

He got up and retrieved a lamp. He cursed when he couldn't find any matches at first, then remembered he kept emergency extras in the inside seam of his hat. He lit the lamp, turning it up to its full brightness. Immediately he saw the hand he had used to touch Millie's face was smeared red. When he swung the lamp around to the prone figure on the floor, he gasped. The young woman lay in a pool of her own blood, her chest stained crimson. Her face was badly bruised and another gash on the side of her head covered half her features in more blood. Lifeless eyes stared straight ahead.

By the looks of the poor woman, she had been dead for at least three or four hours. Nearby Adam found a large knife tossed carelessly aside. Fear for his little brother suddenly had his heart racing. "Little Joe! Little Joe! Answer me! Where are you?"

**TBC...**

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chap and it wasn't too long. Sorry for the cliffy, but you know, gotta keep you interested somehow, lol. Plan to post updates fairly regularly, every few days I hope, so I don't leave people hanging too long. My goal is to try and keep the characters in canon so I hope I succeeded somewhat (being a prequel and all). Feedback greatly appreciated...BSG :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the positive feedback on the last chap. ****Usual disclaimers continued. As promised, update posted without a long delay. **

**Silent Witness: Chapter 2**

"Joe! Little Joe!" Adam made a quick search the house but there was no sign of his missing brother.

Grabbing the lantern he ran outside, crossing the compound to the barn. He scoured the interior, including the hayloft, shouting out to Joe but received no answer. He darted back outside, paused briefly with the lantern held tightly in his hand before searching the compound itself. He checked the smokehouse, the outhouse, anywhere he thought a six-year might have hid, but couldn't find Joe anywhere. His mind raced at all the possibilities. Had someone taken him? Had he managed to run away? Or was his precious baby brother somewhere out there in the dark, in a ditch, hurt or worse?

The last words of his father rang loudly in his ears. "_Take care of your younger brothers, Adam."_

_"I promise, I will."_

Adam refused to give into to the rising panic and the pain tearing into his gut. He needed to stay calm, focused. He headed back to the house. Inside, he set the lamp down and tried to think rationally. He knew he should ride into town and fetch the sheriff, but his first priority was to find his baby brother. Hoss and the Ponderosa were closer than going all the way into town. He could send one of the men into Virginia City while he organized the rest of the ranch hands into a search party.

The poor woman's eyes still remained open and, unable to stand their sightless stare a moment longer, Adam knelt down on one knee to close them. It was then he thought he heard a faint sound. His head shot up, looking around. "Joe? Little Joe?"

Again, nothing.

He got up and searched the house again, this time more thoroughly, checking under the beds, in the closets, but as before, the rooms were all empty. As he stood in the living room, he heard it again. It was soft, muffled, but it was definitely there. It sounded close by. "Joe? Is that you, little buddy? Where are you? It's Adam." He strained his ear, but only silence followed. He moved back into the kitchen area.

In the lantern light, Miss Richards' arm was flung out to the side, her fingers spread out as if she had been reaching for something, the those sightless eyes fixed.

Adam's gaze followed her outstretched arm to a small cabinet just under the wash sink. Stepping over the body, he knelt down, his heart pounding. Broken pieces of what looked like had been a chair where scatter and lying against the cabinet. He crouched down. Through a small slit in the cabinet, Adam thought he heard the noise again, a scrap, a whimper. He flung the debris aside and opened the door.

Adam gasped.

Inside, he found the small boy huddled in the corner, knees drawn up, arms tucked against his chest. He was barefoot and dressed in what appeared to be an oversized shirt, but it was his eyes that shook Adam up the most. They were wide, dilated and staring straight ahead.

"Joe!" He reached in. "Little Joe! Thank god!" At his touch, Joe jerked back, almost as if physically struck, his body trembling badly. Adam didn't let go, but instead drew him into an embrace, holding him close. "It's okay, Little Buddy. I've got you. You're safe." Violent tremors coursed through the thin frame, along with terrified, strangled short pants. It was then Adam noticed Joe's stare was fixated on the dead woman, her sightless eyes macabrely illuminated in the yellowish lamplight.

Adam turned his brother away from the grisly sight, pressing one hand into the soft curls, the other wrapping protectively about the small shaking frame. He brought Joe over and laid him down on a settee near the stone hearth, facing away from the body. Joe continued the soft frantic pants that jerked his body and tore at Adam's heart.

He did a quick assessment of the boy and the first thing he noticed was the large angry bruise adorning Joe's right cheek, the tissue swollen and pressing up against his right eye. The second was Joe's left wrist. Joe held it close to his side, but Adam could see it was swollen and badly bruised. Adam tried to exam it but Joe drew it back, panting harder.

"It's okay, Little Joe," Adam assured. "I'm not going to hurt, just need to check you over."

Deciding to leave the swollen wrist for a second, Adam's assessment continued downward, noticing several small cuts on the boy's legs and over his knees. They had bled and had since crusted over. The palm of Joe's right hand was in similar shape.

Adam had to quell the sudden rage within him because there was something far more concerning. Joe was cold, very cold. Dressed only in the flimsy shirt, the child was practically chilled to the bone.

Adam was no doctor, but knew enough to realize Little Joe was in some kind of shock. He needed to get the boy warmed up and quickly. As he pulled away, Joe convulsed again and Adam gently cupped the uninjured side of Joe's face. "It's okay, Little Buddy. I'll be right back." The eyes remained unresponsive to his touch, but continued to stare straight ahead, like a terrified doe caught in a hunter's trap.

Hurriedly Adam retrieved two blankets from the bedroom. The first he draped over the bloody corpse, the second, a thicker quilt, he wrapped around Joe and gathered the boy once more up in his arms. The only sound Joe made was the same pathetic panting whimpers as his body continued to tremble uncontrollably. He held him tightly for several minutes, rubbing his back and trying to still the shakes and using his body heat to try and warm him up.

He talked to the child, tried to get him to respond, but Joe remained unresponsive to his brother's commands. He just stared straight ahead, his eyes almost as dead looking as the poor woman's on the floor, under the blanket.

Adam rubbed his shoulders. "It's okay, Little Joe. You're going to be just fine. I've got you." He crooned, his tone soft and reassuring, but inside Adam's heart was lodged in his throat.

How long had the child been hiding in the cabinet? The poor woman had obviously been dead for a while. The thought of his baby brother, scared and alone, wedged in that dark cabinet for hours filled Adam with immense guilt. "I'm sorry, Little Joe. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. But you're going to be okay, now. I'm here and I'm going to take care of you." Joe continued to shake and remain limp and unresponsive in Adam's arms.

One side of Adam's brain told him to stay put, start a fire and warm the boy up. But the other side was telling him to get Joe back to the Ponderosa as quickly as possible, into his own bed and fetch Doc Martin, that something was seriously wrong. The second thought won out.

Adam left Joe temporarily on the settee to look for his clothes, at least his coat, pants and socks, since he was only dressed in the thin oversized shirt, but after a futile attempt to locate them, he gave up. He did manage to find a pair of adult size wool socks. He slipped them over Little Joe's legs. They came up past his knees. Satisfied they would keep his feet and lower legs warm, Adam found some cloth and tore it into strips and gently wrapped Joe's wrists and then used his neckerchief to immobilize it in a sling. He then re-bundled the boy up in the quilt and carried him out to Ranger.

Once mounted, he sat Joe facing him so his head rested against his chest. Wrapping one arm around him and grabbing the reins with the other, he set off for home. The pace was slower than Adam cared for but he couldn't risk going any faster in the dark. Luckily there was enough of a moon to allow him to make his way, but he still had to be careful about holes and ruts hidden in the shadows. Luckily, Ranger's eyesight was better suited for the dark and he continued at a sure-footed pace. The downside was the temperature was dropping.

Throughout the cold journey home, Adam kept up a steady conversation, though one sided, hoping the deep tenor would eventually calm the continual shakes that plagued Joe's thin body. For the most part Joe remained unresponsive to Adam's voice or the gentle rubbing motion of his steady hand on his back. The only sound that came from the six year old was the occasional breathy pants that sounded pathetic and very, very scared. It wasn't until Adam reached the final turnoff that would lead to the ranch house did he feel Little Joe's fingers inching up his chest, curling around the opening of his shirt.

€#€#€#€

Adam pulled up in front of the house and shouted for Hoss. A few minutes later he came ambling out of the barn, munching on an apple. "Thought I heard you. Just finished puttin' the team away." He saw Adam holding onto the blanket and surmised it must be his little brother wrapped snuggily up inside. About to say something teasing about the boy falling asleep in the saddle, he was stopped short by the serious, pinched look on Adam's face. "What is it?"

"Just take him from me so I can get down."

Hoss reached up and Adam handed down their little brother to him. "Careful," Adam warned. Hoss immediately noticed how limp Joe felt in his arms. Concern immediately washed over his face. "What happened to him?" he demanded.

Adam jumped down off of his horse and took Joe back in his arms. "I'll explain everything, but first I need to get him inside and warmed up, his practically frozen to the bone." Hoss followed on Adam's heels as he hurried into the house, up the stairs, and into Joe's room. Adam unwrapped the blanket enough to expose Joe's face. Hoss gasped at the sight of the large bruise adorning the swollen cheek.

"What in tarnation happened?"

"Miss Richards is dead, murdered."

"Murdered?"

"Stabbed to death by the looks of it. There was blood everywhere."

"And Joe?" Hoss asked not likin' the look on his younger brother's pale face, the angry bruise on his cheek or the way his eyes seemed to just stare straight ahead, unfocused.

"I found him hiding in a cupboard under the sink, just like this. He hasn't said a word since."

Hoss took his brother's right hand. "Shortshanks? That true? Cat got your tongue?" As with Adam, Joe remained unresponsive. Hoss looked anxiously to his older brother, fear showing in the light blue eyes. At that moment Hoss looked every bit his thirteen years of age, scared and unsure, and seeking the reassurance of his older brother.

"I-Is he gonna be all right, Adam?"

Adam stroked Joe's head. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "We need Doc Martin. Hoss, wake up Hank and send him into town, tell him to fetch the sheriff out here too. Then heat up some water. We need to get Joe warmed up."

"I already got some water heatin', figuring we'd all need a bath when ya got home," Hoss told him. "What about Pa, Adam? He ought ta know."

"Have Hank send a wire to Placerville. Hopefully it will reach Pa before he leaves on the morning stage." Ben was over-nighting in Placerville before continuing up north for his business meetings in San Francisco.

Hoss took off but was back within few minutes totting a tub and fetching buckets of warm water up. Soon he had the bath set up.

Adam unwrapped Little Joe the rest of the way. Joe flinched at the movement, the scared pants picking up. Adam reached out and touched the child's head, stroking the soft curls. "It's okay, little buddy, we're just going to get you warm and cleaned up." He stripped Joe out of the dirty oversized shirt, tossing it carelessly to the side. It was then both noticed more bruising over Joe's stomach.

Anger lit Hoss' face. "Who would do such a thing, Adam? He's just a baby!"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out!" Adam said venonmently through a tightly clenched jaw. He removed the sling before lowering Joe gently into the warm water. "Watch his wrist, Hoss." While Hoss supported him, Adam took a washcloth and gently bathed Joe being careful around the many bruises, finding more on the child's back as he bathed him. Joe remained impassive throughout the whole process except for the occasional flinches and gasps of pain, despite how gentle Adam tried to be. Once done, Adam lifted Joe out of the tub and Hoss quickly wrapped a clean towel around him. Adam dried him off, then put him in a clean nightshirt and socks and tucked him into bed, placing the injured wrist on top of a soft pillow. "Hoss, you stay with him while I go down and warm up some soup."

Hoss nodded. "I'll take care of 'im, Adam." He sat on the bed next to Joe, anxiously gnawing on his lower lip. As brothers, he and Joe had always been close, not that he wasn't close to Adam, it was just that he had a special fondness for his little brother. Even at such a young age, Joe seemed to understand Hoss and Hoss understood him. They were buddies. He held onto Joe's uninjured hand. "Now you don't fret none, Lil' Joe. Doc Martin will be here soon and get ya all better."

Adam returned a few minutes later with a tray containing a bowl of soup and a pot of coffee. He set it down. "Sit him up, Hoss. Let's see if I can get him to eat." Hoss slid back until he was resting against the headboard of the bed and sat Little Joe upright, being mindful of his injuries, until he was leaning up against his chest. Adam sat down on the bed with the bowl in his hand. Slowly he spooned a little of the warm soup into Joe's mouth. Though Joe's eyes continued to stare blankly ahead, Adam was eventually rewarded when Joe swallowed. "That's it, buddy. You're doing great." He took his time and fed the child slowly, being careful to watch that he didn't choke. After a half dozen or so spoonfuls Joe's head lulled to the side indicating he had enough.

"He ain't shivering as bad now, Adam," Hoss said. Adam nodded. Together they laid Joe back down and covered him up. "What now?" Hoss asked.

"We just wait for Doc Martin. See what he says." Adam could see Hoss wasn't satisfied with the answer. He stared down at Joe, his gentle blue eyes once more glistening in both anger and worry. "Go downstairs, Hoss, and get yourself something to eat. I'll stay up here with Little Joe." Hoss was reluctant to leave. "Go on." Adam also knew the best thing he could do for his middle brother right now was to give him something physical to do to take his mind off his worry. "And when you're done eating, Hoss, can you see to the stock, get them fed and bedded down for the night?"

He nodded, obeying his brother. "I'll take care of Ranger, too, give him a good rub down."

"Thanks," Adam replied gratefully.

Once alone with his little brother, Adam poured himself a cup of strong coffee and pulled a chair up next to the youngster's bed. He touched Joe's forehead and arms and was glad they no longer felt chilled. Adam stroked his baby brother's head, his fingers lingering in the soft curls that had grown long once again, and in his father's opinion, long overdue for another haircut. Adam couldn't help but smile how Joe always managed to wiggle out of a haircut.

He continued to stroke the child, knowing Joe, of all the members of the Cartwright family, was the one who responded most to touch. As fiery and stubborn a child, Joe was also the most affectionate and lovingly expressive in nature, as opposite to Adam in almost every way.

Adam always found it hard to express his true emotions and deep down sometimes wished he could be as carefree and spirited as his youngest brother, but it was not his nature. Most of the time he and Joe mixed like oil and water. Part of it was their age difference. At twelve years his senior, Adam often felt more of a father figure. Part of it was the different way he had grown up.

Adam's childhood had been spent crossing the frontier and watching his father toil and sweat to build the Ponderosa up to what it was today. It had been a tough life for a boy, a hard childhood with little time and luxury for play, but Adam had never really resented it. It had made him strong, independent and reliable, all traits his father expressed his pride in. Yet at the same time, Ben held a great sadness that Adam had been forced to grow up too fast and had missed out on too much.

By the time Joe came along, the Ponderosa was well on its way to being established. Like his spirited mother Marie, Joe's very nature, his energy, his affection, and even his stubbornness and his temper, injected life and heart into their family. The presence of their little brother added a deeper level of love and protectiveness between the three half brothers and had completely won the adoration of their father.

Ben loved all his sons very deeply, but there was just something about Joe that was very special. Perhaps it was because Joe had been born late in his father's life, perhaps it was because he looked so much like Marie or that Joe wasn't shy about expressing his emotions and his obvious devotion to his father. Whichever the case it had been Little Joe who, after Marie's death, had finally brought their father out of his months of immense grief, and it was little Joe that made his father laugh and return the sparkle of life to his eyes once more.

Even Adam was not immune to Joe's charismatic charm and ever-expressive green eyes. Though he didn't always show it, he loved his brother, both his brothers very deeply, and really couldn't imagine the Cartwright family without Little Joe in the equation. His bond with his younger brother had solidified more so after Marie's death, when his father, unable to deal with the grief of loosing his third wife, had closed himself off for a while.

During that time the brunt of the responsibility for running the ranch and looking out for the family had fallen on Adam's young shoulders. It was Adam's hand Little Joe held tightly to when they lowered Marie's body into the grave, and Adam he looked up to with those sad expressive eyes seeking to understand why his mother wasn't coming back and why his father ignored it. And it was Adam he hid behind and clung to when well meaning friends of his father overwhelmed the boy, practically swarming around him, scaring him in their offers to take Joe and Hoss away, care for them, until Ben could resume his role as the family patriarch.

During those times, Little Joe had a lot of nightmares and sought Adam out for comfort. He would crawl into Adam's bed, press his little body up against him and cry his heart out until he fell back to sleep. Little did anyone else know but Adam had desperately needed that comfort too. He was barely holding it together, trying to be strong, but it had only taken those expressive green eyes, full of sadness yet complete trust, and the tiny arms that had wrapped around his neck in comfort that somehow had given him the strength and fortitude to carry on, to fight each day to keep his brothers together on the Ponderosa. Adam looked down at those green eyes now, still staring absently into space, and his heart ached, longing to see the sparkle in them return.

**TBC...**

**A/N: Okay, so what do you think? (I love angst and melodrama and protective big brothers, lol)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the encourraging reviews! Glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story so far.**

**Chapter 3**

Almost two long hours went by before Adam heard the sound of a team pulling up in front of the yard and Hoss' shout from the living room. "Doc's here, Adam!"

Glancing once more at the still form beneath the quilts, the large bruise that stood starkly out on the pale face, and the sightless eyes that refused to close, Adam dashed out of the room and met Dr. Martin at the bottom of the stairs.

Hank was also there and informed Adam that Sheriff Coffee had gone out to the Richards' place and would be over later. Adam nodded and then led the family physician upstairs. Hoss was close on his heels.

Dr. Martin held up his hand barring Hoss' entrance. "But I just wanted to make sure he's alright," Hoss argued, his face pinched up in worry.

"Let me see to him first, Hoss, then I promise I'll let you come in."

Adam placed his hands on his middle brother's shoulders, gently but firmly. "Go on, Hoss, wait downstairs." The thirteen year-old's chin quivered slightly, but he nodded and reluctantly complied.

Adam stood patiently at the foot of the bed as Dr. Martin examined Little Joe from head to toe. The family physician who had treated all the Cartwrights since Little Joe's birth asked Adam periodic questions throughout the exam, about how he found Joe, his condition and the circumstances, and Adam did his best to answer calmly through his worry and his anger.

After checking Joe's pulse and respirations, the doctor looked into the boy's eyes, tried to get Joe to follow his fingers, but as before, the child stared absently ahead. He then felt carefully over the child's head, checking for any sign of physical injury. "Has he been conscious the whole time?"

"Yeah, but just like that, just staring straight ahead."

Doc Martin gave a slight nod and then examined the bruise over Joe's cheek. By now the mark had a distinctive pattern of a handprint. Someone had struck Little Joe full force in the face. Anger seethed in Adam at the thought.

The doctor continued his exam, moving downward. He checked Joe's chest and ribs, then listened to his breathing through a stethoscope, satisfied his lungs were clear. Then he probed Joe's bruised abdomen. Little Joe grunted slightly. He moved down Joe's arms, first the right, then the left, noticing the small cuts on his right palm. Removing the makeshift bandage Adam had placed over Joe's left wrist, the doctor carefully examined the swollen and bruised tissue. Dr. Martin manipulated the wrist gently and Little Joe's face contorted and he tried to withdraw it away.

Oddly enough, Adam saw the doctor smiling slightly at Joe's response. "It's not broken, just very badly sprained and he's responsive to pain, which is a good thing."

"How is that good?"

Dr. Martin stroked the child's head paternally. "It means he's still with us. His senses haven't shut completely down. The wrist will need to be immobilized though and it will likely give the boy considerable pain until the swelling goes down." The doctor rolled Joe gently over, aware of the slight tremors that racked through his body and found still more bruising on Joe's back. He finished his exam, noticing more cuts over the boy's knees and lower legs. He cleaned all the cuts thoroughly, pulling a few shards of glass impeded in Joe's knees. He then splinted Joe's left wrist before tucking him back under the covers.

"How is he, Doc?"

"Physically he's taken quite a beating that's for sure, but thankfully, nothing too serious that won't heal. Mentally, on the other hand, I'm more concerned."

"What's wrong with him?"

"By how you described finding Miss Richards and then finding Joe in the cabinet, my guess is the boy's suffering from traumatic shock." Doctor Martin reached into his bag, pulled out a jar containing a white powder. "I'm going to mix up a sleeping powder for him."

"But if he's in shock, is that safe, I mean, to put him to sleep?"

"In this case, it's what the child needs most, to let his mind and body rest. Hopefully, after Little Joe has gotten some sleep, he'll start to come around."

"Are you sure?"

"The mind is a very tricky thing, Adam, especially a young child's and I'm no expert in this area. But from what you have told me, and the physical abuse evident, Little Joe has obviously experienced to a very traumatic event. It may have just been too much for his young mind to handle and this is his way of protecting himself. The only thing we can do is to give Joe a chance to rest, be there for him, and make sure he feels safe. Other than that, just patience and time."

Doctor Martin mixed up the powder in a glass of water. "Prop him up, Adam." Adam did as asked. With a little encouragement, Joe drank the mixture easily. His brother tucked him back in. It took a while, but finally the medicine began to have the desired affect and the child's eyes began to droop with exhaustion then close. Soon he was in a drug-induced sleep.

"He should sleep most of the night, but make sure someone stays close by."

"Don't worry. Hoss and I will see to it."

"I'll also leave some medicine for the pain, in case that wrist bothers him too much." Adam nodded. The doctor then asked. "What about Ben?"

Adam explained how they were trying to reach him in Placerville. Both Adam and Doctor Martin knew the senior Cartwright would want to be immediately informed about anything that happened to any of his sons, but most especially his youngest born.

There was a tap on the door. It was Hoss. "Sheriff Coffee is here, Adam." He looked quickly to his brother. "Is Lil' Joe all right?"

"Doc gave him a sleeping powder so he can rest. Can you stay up here with him Hoss while I go down and talk the sheriff?" Hoss eagerly nodded and took a seat in the chair next to Joe's bed.

Adam met the lawman downstairs, exchanging handshakes. "How's Little Joe?" Roy asked with genuine concern for the youngster.

"Doctor Martin thinks Joe's in some kind of traumatic shock."

"I can certainly see why, poor woman. Couple of my men will be bringing the body into town. Doc, I'm going to need you to exam her when you can spare the time."

"Yes, of course."

"Did Joe say anything to you about who did this?" Roy asked.

Adam shook his head. "He hasn't said a word." He then explained to Roy just how he'd found Joe. Doctor Martin then informed the sheriff that he had administered a sleeping powder to finally get Joe to close his eyes and sleep and that he would probably be out of it for the next twelve to twenty-four hours.

Sheriff Coffee ran his hand around the brim of his hat. "It's too dark to try and pick up a trail tonight, but I'll head back out there first thing in the morning. In the meantime," the sheriff continued. "Keep yours eyes open. Whoever killed Miss Richards is still on the loose and your brother up there may be our only witness."

The gravity of the sheriff's words left Adam deeply unsettled. Sheriff Coffee and Doctor Martin departed shortly after. Roy promised to keep Adam posted on any news, while Doctor Martin promised to check on Joe in the morning. That night Adam took precautions to make sure the house was secure before relieving Hoss, still sitting next to his brother's side, insisting Hoss get some sleep.

The rest of the night was a long silent vigil until the early morning hours when a sound startled Adam. Completely exhausted, he had dozed off uncomfortably propped in the chair. Immediately jerked awake, he reached for his gun he'd left on the night table only to realize the sound had come from Joe's bed.

Despite the sleeping powder Doctor Martin had given him, Little Joe had suddenly grown restless, panting and kicking at the covers. Adam reached out and found to his dismay Joe was covered in sweat and shaking. Joe thrashed wildly, then the let out a gasp as he knocked his injured wrist against the headboard. Adam, afraid he would hurt himself further, gathered Little Joe up in his arms, sitting him on his lap, being careful of Joe's bandaged wrist and multiple bruises. At Adam's first touch, Little Joe jerked and tried to shrink away, but Adam held him close whispering reassurances in his ear. Silent tears ran down the child's tight face, his back arching, apparently caught up in some inner torment.

Adam cupped his head into the curve of his neck, crooning softly. "It's okay, little buddy. It's okay. You're safe. I've got you." He repeated the words over and over again.

...

_Somewhere deep inside Little Joe's mind the terrible images rose through the inky blackness, angry voices shouting, someone screaming, terrified, gasping. Through the little slat all he could see was the blood, so much blood...and the eyes staring back at him. He wanted to scream, shout for his pa, to have his papa or Adam come and take him away, but when he opened his mouth to cry out, the voice threatened..."Not a sound, boy, not a word, you hear, or you'll end up dead just like her."_

_Darkness closed around him intensifying his terror and the only thing he could see now were the lifeless eyes staring back. Somewhere he felt arms around him, another voice talking softly, but it was distant and so far away. Exhaustion washed over him and once more the little child's mind let go, let itself be pulled back into a drug induced sleep._

_..._

Adam felt Little Joe grow limp, the terrible tremors easing. The child's silent sobs turned to watery hiccups and then an occasional shudder. Gently he pushed Little Joe's slightly away to see his tear stained checks. The sweaty curls were plastered to his brow as Joe's mouth formed a single word, over and over again..._Papa, Papa_, but no sound came out. With a cool cloth, Adam wiped the tears from his baby brother's face and cuddled him back against his chest, his own heart aching, he too wishing for his father.

…

In the morning that's how Hoss found them, Adam sitting in the wing back chair with Little Joe wrapped in a blanket and cuddled on his lap. Adam's grainy eyes opened. "How is he doing, Adam?" Hoss asked worriedly.

Adam rubbed a hand over his scratchy face, tried to rub the grit from his eyes. He looked down and once again saw Joe's uninjured hand had curled around his shirt. Adam shifted slightly in the chair, his voice a little dry, scratchy. "He was pretty restless last night, though he never woke up fully."

"Got some fresh coffee on the stove and scrambled eggs 'iffin yer hungry," Hoss offered.

"Thanks." He went to rise then felt an uncomfortable wetness on his legs. He grimaced, realizing at some point in time, Joe's bladder had relieved itself. Adam had been too exhausted to even notice. It had been a long time since his little brother had an accident, not since the months following Marie's death, but under the circumstances, Adam understood.

Seeing the reason for his brother's grimace, Hoss stepped in. "I'll take care of Joe, older brother, while you get yourself cleaned up and then go eat."

"Thanks."

Adam left and Hoss went about cleaning his little brother and changing him into a fresh nightshirt. Little Joe stirred slightly and for a brief second the hazel eyes opened before fluttering closed. Anger stirred in Hoss as he stared down at the marred cheek. In general Hoss was known for his gentleness and even temper and wasn't one to get riled easily, but the one thing that would generally set him off was people messing with his younger brother. He remembered when Joe first started school and some of the older kids had tried to razz him for being puny, even going so far as to try and push him around, until Hoss had stepped in. He never knew why people had to be like that, so mean, for no reason. Sky blue eyes watched Joe sleep. "I promise ya, Lil' Joe, when I find out who done this ta ya, I'll give him what for!"

Adam returned sometime later freshly changed in a different black outfit. He looked a little better, though Hoss could see the tired lines still etched about his face. He held a cup of coffee in his hand and despite himself, yawned widely. "Why don't ya go lay down a bit, Adam? I kin watch Lil' Joe for a spell."

"I'll be okay, but I'll take you up on your offer to stay with him. I want to ride out and meet up with Sheriff Coffee, see if he's found anything."

"Think that's wise? I mean goin' off and leavin' Joe here?"

"I'm not planning on being gone long, but I think it's important I try and find out as much as I can. While I'm gone, I'll talk to Hank and leave a couple of hands to work here around the yard, just in case you need anything. Have one of them come get me if Joe wakes up."

"Okay, Adam. And don't ya worry none. I'll take care of little brother here."

"I know you will. I'll be back soon."

He found Hank out in the barn. The two briefly discussed where Adam was heading and what work needed to be done for the day. The list seemed endless. "It sure would help if we weren't so short handed," the foreman said. "We really need a couple more men for the round up and we still have six green horses to break for that Army contract."

"What about Toby?" Adam asked.

"His shoulder's still a bit stiff from that fall he took a few days ago. Don't think he's gonna be up to bustin' many broncs for another week or so. I assigned him to work around the yard this morning then I'll send him out to help the boys finish moving the herd down into the lower valley. Me and Pete will try and work on those horses today but what we sure could use is a decent bronc buster."

Adam nodded. There was _always_ something that needed to be done, and he promised Hank he would try and help out with the horses later that day, but for the moment Adam felt what was needed the most was to find out who had wanted to kill Miss Richards and hurt his little brother.

#^#^#^

Sheriff Coffee and his deputy were already at the ranch when Adam arrived. Roy inquired about Joe. "He's still sleeping."

The three went inside. In the light of day Adam could see more clearly the extent of the damage. Though the body had already been removed, the dark pool of dried blood staining the floor left evidence of the brutality of the act as well as the general state of the room. The kitchen table lay on its side and the chairs were scattered and lay broken from where they had obviously been flung. Pieces of glass from a shattered lamp lay on the floor and as Adam took a closer look, he could see brown smears intermixed. More blood. Little Joe's blood, he thought angrily, recalling the cuts and scraps over Joe's knees and hand, realizing the boy must have crawled through the glass in an attempt to escape his attacker.

Emotions ranged inside him again at the thought and Adam tried hard to suppress it. "Any idea who could have done this?" He was both anxious and angry for answers.

"Robbers, maybe?" The deputy suggested "Place is pretty well ransacked."

"Maybe." Sheriff Coffee seemed doubtful though. "Found this on the floor near the body." He held up a gold bracelet. The clasp was broken. "If this had been a robbery, you'd think they would have taken this too. Looks like a pretty expensive piece of jewelry."

"Then what else?" The young deputy asked.

The sheriff's mouth drew grimly down. "Maybe a case of opportunity," Roy replied delicately. "Most people around these parts knew Miss Richards lived alone." The thought sickened Adam. "Were there any...signs?" Chivalry prevented Adam from finishing the sentence. "Doc Martin is still examining the body," Roy answered.

While the deputy continued to look around, Sheriff Coffee had some questions for Adam. "Did you know if Millie Richards had any enemies, someone that may have wished her harm?" Adam shook his head. Millie Richards, about five years older than Adam, had always been a very sweet, pleasant, quiet woman. She and her father had moved to Virginia City about three years ago and bought the ranch that adjoined the Ponderosa. Three months ago, Mr. Richards had passed away suddenly after a long illness. Adam thought for a moment, and then remembered something else. A few weeks ago Miss Millie had stopped by the house, asking to see his father.

"Know what for?" Roy asked. Adam shook his head. Truth be told, he had never asked. He had only greeted her in passing, his mind already occupied with his duties for the day.

Adam and Roy had moved out onto the back porch as they talked. A washtub stood next to the back door. Inside, Adam recognized something familiar. He pulled it out. It was Little Joe's shirt, and beneath his pants. Both were caked in mud and had the smell of sour milk on them. He also found Joe's boots, also covered in mud. It suddenly explained why Adam had found his brother in just the oversized shirt, but still didn't explain the reason for the attack. The soiled clothing had not been washed or even rinsed out though and Adam could only surmise Miss Millie hadn't been given the chance, perhaps interrupted by her attacker.

The deputy returned. "Found three sets of boots prints around the side of the house."

Adam and Roy followed the deputy. "One of these is mine," Adam indicated. "I was searching for Joe outside for a while before I found him hiding in the cabinet."

"Then that means there were at least two men." Sheriff Coffee said. "Looks like they headed off that way." He indicated towards the woods. The deputy brought his and the sheriff's mounts over. Adam went to retrieve Ranger. "Just were do you think you're going?" Roy said.

"With you, of course," Adam said stubbornly.

"The only place you're going, son, is home to those two brothers of yours."

"Listen, Sheriff Coffee..."

The lawman held up his hand. "I ain't a gonna listen."

"But those two men hurt Little Joe," Adam argued fiercely.

"And I'm the Law. And it's my job to track these men down, not yours. Your Pa would take a rawhide strap to the both of us if he knew you were tagging along while your two younger brothers are at home by themselves." Adam knew he was right. "Look, son. Little Joe needs you at home and until we find those killers I think it's best you keep a close eye on him. Let me and Jessie here do our jobs."

"All right, Sheriff. But I want to know as soon as you find out anything." Roy nodded. He and his deputy mounted up. Reluctantly Adam watched them ride out before turning Ranger about and heading back to the Ponderosa.

On the hillside just out of sight, a lone figure crouched low in the tall grass, well concealed. He watched the two lawmen ride out and then the third younger man, dressed in black, go in the opposite direction. He watched until they were gone before heading back to his own horse tethered out of sight. Mounting up, he quickly rode away.

**TBC...**

**A/N: Next chap probably won't be up till Wed or Thursday of next week as I will be out of town, but as always, feedback is really appreciatied.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you everyone who has review the story so far and have found it interesting. **

**Usual disclaimers.**

**Chapter 4**

It was just after nine that evening when Adam heard hoof beats out front. A moment later Ben Cartwright burst through the front door. He looked haggard, was covered in dust and his face held the remnants of a day's growth of whiskers, yet to Adam it was the best sight he'd seen in days.

"Pa. I wasn't expecting you to get here until the noon stage tomorrow."

Ben shed his hat, coat and gun belt. "When I got your wire, I rented a horse. Little Joe? How? Where is he?"

"Upstairs, Pa. Hoss is with him." Ben nodded and quickly strode up the stairs, his chocolate eyes creased in worry.

Hoss stood up as his father entered the bedroom. "Pa!" He hugged his father. "I'm sure glad to see you." Ben squeezed his middle son's shoulders reassuringly before his eyes settled on the still figure lying in bed. Those same eyes darkened at the sight of the purple bruise on his youngest son's cheek and the bandaged wrist propped on a pillow. He bent down and placed his hand on the child's head. "Joseph? Joseph? Can you hear me son? It's Pa."

"He's been asleep on and off most of the day," Hoss replied.

Ben stroked the child's head. Little Joe stirred. "That's it, baby. Wake up for Pa." The child opened his eyes, but instead of recognition in the green depths, they stared blankly ahead, slightly glazed over. Ben frowned deeply. "Joe? Little Joe." The eyelids blinked, but Joe's stare remained fixed off into space. Ben threaded his fingers through the soft curly hair, he eyes seeking an explanation from his eldest son.

"He's been like this since we brought him home last night."

"What happened to your brother Adam?" Adam cringed at the tone in his father's voice. "The telegram I got in Placerville only said Little Joe was hurt."

"Did you stop in town? Talk to either Roy or Doc Martin?" Adam asked.

"No. I came directly here." Ben replied. "Why? What happened?" The Cartwright patriarch demanded again, not liking the far away, glazed look in his son's eyes. "Did he fall, injure his head?"

"No. Doctor Martin says it's a form of traumatic shock."

"Shock?" Ben repeated.

"Pa. Somethin' happened. Somethin' terrible happened," Hoss said.

Ben looked to his two sons. "Tell me, Adam. Tell me what happened."

Slowly Adam relayed the events to his father. Ben listened appalled by the brutal murder of the young woman and horrified Little Joe had apparently bared witness to it. He looked down at the small child, his son, and his lips tightened with emotion. "What did they do to you, son? What did they do to you?" Tenderly Ben stroked Joe's face. Already the little boy's eyes were drifting shut again as if they couldn't hold open their own weight.

"Doctor Martin gave him something to sleep last night, then came by this morning. Said we just need to be patient, to let him rest and wake up on his own," Adam explained.

Ben nodded, for a moment too emotional to speak. _How could this have happened? How? Why?_ He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You two should head for bed, get some rest. I'll stay up with Joseph."

Adam stood behind his father, saw his shoulders slump just a little, yet his voice was even, determined.

"Pa, at least me fix you something to eat while you get cleaned up," Adam said noticing the tired, weary lines etch on his face, guessing he probably hadn't bothered to stop along the way to eat. "You must have been riding hard all day."

Ben inclined his head. "I was. Thank you." While Adam went downstairs to fix his father a meal, Ben found his middle son standing, looking a little lost. He got up and placed his hands on Hoss' shoulders. "Are you all right?" For all his size and appearance, Hoss was still just a thirteen year-old boy. Ben could see the pale blue eyes were ringed in red and a little puffy.

"I'm okay, Pa. Just worried about Lil' Joe. Never seen him so quiet afore." Suddenly his eyes brimmed with tears, his face filled with guilt. "We're sorry, Pa. We didn't mean ta leave Joe there so long. We was just tryin' ta get that darn fence line finished before the herd showed up. He musta been _so _scared, Pa, all by his self."

Ben squeezed his son's shoulders. "I know, son. And I don't blame you or your brother for what happened. Neither of you could have foreseen this, but I am proud you both have been here for him, taking care of him until I could get home."

"I just want Lil' Joe ta wake up and be his self again, Pa."

"I know, son. We all do. We will just have to pray for your brother's recovery. But for now, I want you to go to bed, get some rest."

"Okay." Hoss hugged his father again. "I'm sure glad you're home, Pa."

Adam brought up a tray of leftover stew, cornbread and coffee. It wasn't much but Ben nevertheless thanked him. He ate barely tasting the food, then insisted again Adam get some rest. Adam didn't argue, even though his father looked more exhausted then he did at the moment, knowing there was no way Ben would leave Joe's side tonight.

€#€#€#€

Like Adam had done the night before, Ben took up a quiet vigil at Little Joe's side. After receiving the telegram, he barely remembered the journey back. The only thing he could seem to remember last was Little Joe running down the steps Friday morning, still in his nightshirt, tearful and anxious about Ben going away. Ben understood. It had only been just a little of a year since Marie's death, and the little boy was still adjusting to his mother's loss. They all were.

He gently rubbed the sleeping boy's hand, guilt washing over him that his child was made to suffer another tragic event.

Sometime past midnight Joe started to stir and became restless, thrashing his head back and forth in his sleep. His skin became damp and clammy and he started to shake. Ben immediately rose from his chair and sat back down on the bed, gathering his boy up in his arms. At his touch, the small arms tried to fight him, push him away, but like Adam had done the night before, Ben gathered him into an embrace and tried to calm his distress with soft words. "Joseph. Son, Pa's here. It's all right." Joe's lips moved in a mumble but no sound come forth. Tears leaked from his closed eyes.

"Papa's here, baby. Papa's here. You're safe, Little Joe," he crooned to the child, holding him close, rocking him back and forth. Distraught and squirming in his arms, Ben listened to the silent sobs that shook the small body and couldn't help the sting of tears form. _Oh god, what the child must have endured, witnessed to have placed such an unconscious fear in his youngest son? _He thought, his heart aching for his boy.

Ben stroked Joe's back, shushed him quietly, gently reassuring him he was safe. Eventually Joe stopped struggling and collapsed into his father's chest, spent, exhausted. He tucked Joe back into bed and carefully propped his injured wrist back up on the pillow. But as he drew away, the little fingers reached out, latching onto Ben's sleeve, seeking security.

Ben patted the hand reassuringly then stretched out on the bed, turning onto his side until the boy's head rested against his chest. The small hand crept up between their two bodies and Ben covered it with his own stronger one. Soon he felt the remaining tension drain away as Joe drifted back into a deep sleep. Exhausted, Ben closed his own eyes, intending to only rest but soon he too fell asleep.

€#€#€#€

A tiny hand touching his cheek woke Ben up just as the dawn was beginning to rise. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw a pair of green eyes staring up at him. A sad little smile followed and Ben smiled gently back, his heart awash in relief. The little hand lingered on his cheek before the curly head turned and nestled silently into the groove of his neck. Ben embraced him, his cheek resting on the child's head. "I'm here, Joseph. Papa's here."

….

It was a little before eight in the morning when Hoss poked his head inside the bedroom. The first thing he noticed was his father reclined back on the bed, propped up on pillows, with Little Joe draped across his chest. About to shut the door, thinkin' they were both still asleep, Hoss was drawn to their side by the motion of his father's hand and a soft smile on his face.

As Hoss approached the bed, he saw one shy green eye peeking up at him, clear and bright. He crouched down at the side of the bed. "Shortshanks?" He was rewarded when the child's head shifted slightly and a second green eye appeared, gazing silently at him. Hoss' mouth split into a wide grin. "Little brother, you sure had us all plum worried. Thought you was never gonna wake up!" Joe gave his brother a little smile.

Adam heard Hoss' raised voice and saw the door to Joe's room open. He stepped inside and his own smile mirrored his brother when he saw Joe awake and staring at them with recognition in the expressive hazel eyes. He leaned over, placing a hand on Joe's back. "Hey there, little buddy." His tone was deep, yet soft, and full of brotherly affection.

Joe continued to stare at his brothers but remained quiet, almost shy. Ben shifted slightly and Joe immediately clung to his father. Both his brothers continued to talk to him, but their little brother remained silent. "Aren't ya gonna even say hi to us, Punkin'?" Hoss teased. "Yeah, sleepy head. House has been too quiet without the sound of your voice," Adam added.

Still Little Joe wouldn't talk. Both Hoss and Adam frowned. Adam crouched down until he was at eye level but Little Joe just continued to stare at them. Joe's mouth opened, started to say something but no words came out. Fear suddenly laced his eyes and his little chin quivered. Fresh tears welled in the hazel orbs.

"Joseph?" Ben asked, leaning over and gently turning his son's chin towards him. Joe tried to say something again, wanted to talk, wanted to say his pa's name, but the words just wouldn't come.

"What'sa matter Joe?" Hoss asked. Joe remained silent, trembling. Both Hoss and Adam looked up to their father, deeply troubled.

**TBC...**

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the latest chap. Next chap should be up in a few days. Hope I'm still keeping the charactes to canon. As always, reviews are much appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry, for the repost, but for some reason I missed loading the beginning part of Chapter 5, so for those who already read it, here's another little tidbit, lol**

**Chapter 5**

Joe sat in bed, staring anxiously up at Doctor Martin as he took a stethoscope out of his bag. His eyes darted from his two brothers standing at the foot of the bed, to his father sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. Ben had sent for Doctor Martin when Joe's distress had increased, yet his little son remained stoically silent. "Now, Little Joe, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just good old Doc Martin here. I'm just going to check you out." Joe looked back up to his father who nodded reassuringly. Doc Martin listened to Joe's lungs. Then afterwards felt his neck, checked his ears and lastly had Joe open his mouth and checked his throat. He kept a gentle conversation flowing with the boy. "Does your throat hurt, Little Joe?" The child silently shook his head. Once he finished, the doctor patted the boy's arm and smiled. "All done."

Joe remained silent. Doctor Martin stood up and wound his stethoscope up. "Joe. I'm just going to talk to your father downstairs for few minutes. We'll be right back."

Nervously Joe looked to his pa, who smiled back. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Joseph."

Adam, anxious to know what was going on too, glanced at Ben who silently nodded his head for Adam to join them downstairs. Ben squeezed Joe's hand, then nodded discreetly to Hoss who stepped over. "Don't worry, Pa. Me and Joe were just gonna play a game of checkers anyway, that is iffin' he promises not ta cheat this time."

Downstairs the senior Cartwright got directly to the point. "What's wrong with Joseph? Why isn't he talking?"

"Physically, Ben, there's nothing wrong with the boy."

"What are you saying?" Adam asked.

"Just that. His throat, his lungs are just fine, no swelling or congestion anywhere. I think Little Joe's problem is psychological in nature. Joe's come out of the initial traumatic shock, which is a good thing, but my guess is there is still some deep fear inside him, bottled up and it's manifested itself in his loss of speech."

"What can we do to help him?" Ben asked, deeply troubled.

"The murder of Miss Richards was obviously very traumatic for Joe. Right now I'm sure the boy is still very afraid and insecure. Best thing to do is get him back into a routine that feels normal for him."

"Are you saying we are just supposed to ignore that fact that my brother is mute?" Adam said defensively.

"No. Not at all. Above all Joe needs to feel safe and secure, but both of you and I know that little boy upstairs has always done things in his own way and in his own good time. You can't push him or force him into talking until Joe is ready."

"But what if Joseph still doesn't talk?" Ben asked.

"Let's worry about crossing that bridge later if we have to. I strongly feel his muteness is directly tied into the trauma he experienced. Once he's able to resolve those fears, I think he'll come around. In the meantime you need to patient, just be there for him."

"All right, Paul. We'll do as you suggest," Ben replied.

Doctor Martin nodded. "Bring him to my office in a couple of days. I want to check on his wrist, make sure the swelling has gone down. In the meantime, try and keep it immobile."

"That's going to be tough, considering it's Joe's left wrist and the boy's left-handed," Adam replied.

The doctor smiled. "Yes, well, just try your best."

...

The next several days proved challenging.

Initially Joe slept on and off most of the following day, partly due to the pain medicine Ben gave him when he noticed how much discomfort Joe was still having from his injuries and partly from the deep seeded fear that seemed to cause the boy to withdraw into himself. When he did wake, he was often disoriented and fear laced his eyes. Because he couldn't call or shout out he would start to tremble and break into a panicked sweat. Throughout the day they had to make sure one of them was with Joe at all times. At night, Ben took him to bed with him, wanting to make sure if Joe woke up he felt safe.

Roy Coffee stopped by later the next day and told Ben he and his deputy had lost the trail when the hoof prints eventually had doubled back onto the main road. "No telling if they were heading to Virginia City or towards Carson." He also hadn't had any luck in finding a motive for such a brutal murder of the young woman. As far as he could tell, Miss Richards was a quiet woman, but well liked. She was involved with the church ladies social, often visiting shut ins and Roy couldn't find any reason why someone would have wished her harm beyond a senseless killing. What he _was _able to tell them was Miss Millie had tried to fight back. The doc had found some skin under her nails.

News of the murder had spread quickly into town and had left many of the townsfolk uneasy, especially the women folk, with thoughts of opportunistic killers out on the loose and preying on defenseless women. The details about Little Joe being present at the murder Roy wanted to keep a lid on. Only he, his deputy and the doc knew of Little Joe's involvement. Instinct told the lawman to keep that information privy to a select few and thus, hopefully keep the boy safe. What Roy really needed now was something solid to start with and hoped Little Joe would be up to talking, to at least give a description of the men, but Ben explained the impossibility of his request based on Joe's current condition.

Of course there _was _another possibility, one Sheriff Coffee felt needed to be discussed and broached the topic carefully. "Ben, who else knew you were going out of town and leaving the boy with Miss Richards?"

Ben frowned heavily. "What do you mean?"

"Look, Ben. Everyone around these parts knows you are a wealthy man and they also know how you feel about your boys."

"And everyone that does know me, also knows what I would do if anyone deliberately tried to hurt any of them to gain something or get at me!" Ben growled.

The lawman couldn't deny that.

"Are you saying, Sheriff, you think Joe _was _the intended target?" Adam demanded.

"I'm not saying anything Adam, but as a lawman I need to look at every angle. So far, beyond a random act of an opportunistic killer, I haven't yet found a motive as to why anyone would want to murder someone like Miss Richards. Not that there _isn't _one, but in light of the fact that Little Joe was there, I have to least pose the possibility, Ben."

"Of course. I'm sorry, Roy," Ben replied. He shifted, standing in front of the fireplace, crossing his arms thoughtfully. Of course, Roy had to ask. It was logical, Ben thought. For every acre of land Ben owned, he had to fight that much harder to keep someone from trying to take it from him. He sighed. "Last Sunday after church, Miss Richards offered to care for Little Joe while I was away after I realized Hop Sing wouldn't be back until the middle of next week. I don't think anyone else knew."

"Except for Miss Jones, Pa," Adam said.

"Miss Jones?" Roy inquired.

"Abigail Jones, the schoolteacher. Miss Millie picked up Joe after school on Friday so I wouldn't have to make an extra trip into town." Adam explained.

"So anyone in town could have seen Little Joe riding out of town with Miss Richards on Friday?" The sheriff asked.

"I suppose so," Adam admitted. The thought left him very uneasy. Truth be told, Little Joe had never really gone anywhere without being accompanied by either himself, Hoss or their father. It was just the way things had been done ever since Marie's death. _Had _someone seen this as an opportunity? Made inquiries? Possibly thought out a plan to kidnap his brother, (or worse), but things had gone wrong? But if so, why hadn't they acted on Friday, or had they known Little Joe would be coming back Saturday, or maybe just had assumed Joe would be there the whole weekend?

Roy could see the uneasiness at the idea in both Cartwrights. "Look. I'm not saying that is the reason this happened for _sure_, but it's worth considering. Either way, it still doesn't change the fact that little boy up there may be our only witness to a murder, whether Miss Millie or Joe was the intended target."

Ben could only agree.

Roy left shortly after but he advised Ben to be cautious nevertheless. Ben shook the lawman's hand, intending to take the warning seriously.

By the second day Joe was more alert, coherent and his frustration and temperament began to set in, a combination his inability to speak, the painful bruises that made his body ache and the fact his dominant hand was incapacitated. Joe had to be helped with everything from eating to dressing. He tried to talk, to make his pa and brothers understand what he needed, but he just couldn't and eventually the six year old would break down in frustrated, angry tears.

By the third day the youngster was entirely sick of being confined to his bed so Ben allowed Joe to come downstairs. He dressed him and put his arm in the sling. Adam and Hoss had already left to work on the ranch, while Ben chose to stay at home with Joe and hopefully get some much-needed paperwork done.

At first Joe was content to settle in on the settee downstairs with his favorite stuffed animal and his toy soldiers while Ben sat behind his desk. Since his business trip had been abruptly cancelled, it meant Ben had to renegotiate several important contracts and knew he'd have to make a trip into Virginia City soon to talk to his lawyer. On top of that, he still had the army contract for the horses to fulfill and had to go through reports from the timber crew that were in the process of fulfilling another contract, this time for one of the mining companies. As he worked, Ben would glance periodically over at his son to make sure he was okay.

Little Joe silently played but it was difficult to get his soldiers to fight with each other with only the use of one hand. Frustrated, he tossed them angrily aside. He tried to read his picture book but found it awkward to balance the book on his lap and turn the pages. It too soon suffered the same fate as his soldiers. Ben got up from his desk and retrieved the book and sat down next to him. Though he knew he needed to finish the paper work, at the moment, his son needed him more.

When Ben eventually returned to his work, Joe migrated over and made himself comfortable in the wing back chair next to his father's desk, cuddling up with his favorite stuffed animal. Just being close to his father seemed to settle the boy down some and Ben smiled when he looked up a short time later and found the child curled up asleep. He got up and covered Joe with a light blanket.

Ben worked on the contracts some more until the chimes of the clock interrupted his thoughts. He looked up surprised to see how much time had flown by and realized Adam and Hoss would soon be home for lunch. At that moment he never missed Hop Sing more as Ben got up with a sigh and headed for the kitchen to prepare something substantial to eat, knowing his two sons would be hungry after putting in several hours of hard labor. Adam had gone down to help bust some broncs, while Hoss was helping Charlie out with the herd.

#€#€#€#€

Joe woke up with a start. Quickly he looked around, searching for his father and a panicked look appeared on his face when he could not find him. He called for his pa, but only his mouth moved, no sound came forth. His heart hammered in his throat, the familiar fear returning. He tried to get up out of the chair to search for his pa, but his feet became tangled in the blanket and in his panic he tripped. Little Joe tried to catch himself, but with his arm in the sling he couldn't, and toppled over onto the floor. His injured wrist hit the hard wood and pain shot through his arm. Joe scooted backwards on the floor, curling into himself, silent sobs wracking his little body. He heard his name being called, felt hands untangling his legs out of the blanket and gentle arms lifting him up, holding him close. "Joseph, son. It's okay. Papa's here."

Ben carried Joe over the chair and sat down, cuddling the frightened boy in his lap. Joe looked up into his father's face, mouthing his name over and over again. Then his eyes turned angry and his free hand pounded against his father's chest. Ben held onto to son, knowing his son's anger stemmed from fear and frustration. "I'm sorry Little Joe. I didn't hear you wake up. I was in the kitchen fixing lunch for you and your brothers." He held the child close. Eventually Joe stopped pushing against him and leaned dejectedly against his father. Ben saw Joe holding his injured wrist protectively. "Did you hit your wrist when you fell?"

The boy nodded. "I'll get you something for the pain." Little Joe vigorously shook his head and instead just curled his other arm about his father's neck. Ben understood. The child had been more frightened than hurt. He rubbed his son's back. After a few minutes he sat Joe up. Remembering what Doc Martin had said about trying to get back into a routine that was normal and would help Joe feel more secure, Ben asked. "Why don't you come into the kitchen and help me finish making lunch? Your brothers will be home soon and if I don't have something ready on the table for Hoss, he's likely to start eating the furniture." The comment made Little Joe smile.

Ben carried Joe into the kitchen and sat him on a stool next to him. He was in the process of making beefsteak sandwiches, and earlier he'd started the fixings for what he hoped would be a palatable beef stew for supper later. In the pantry, at least Hop Sing had left some corn bread that he had baked before leaving. Ben would be happy when the little oriental man returned in a few days.

Joe was content to silently watch his father. Later he even helped set the table by bringing the utensils and napkins out. They had just finished when the door opened and Adam and Hoss strode in. "I'm hungrier than a bear wakin' up after hibernation. Sure hope Pa's got some vittles or I'm likely to start gnawin' the furniture." Both Ben and Little Joe exchanged looks, smiling at each other.

Adam and Hoss spied their little brother, both surprised to see a little smile on his face and a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. Both chose to ignore the sight of the large bruise still adorning the child's face that had turned an ugly greenish purple, and the injured arm still in the sling, reminders of Joe's abuse, instead focusing on his smile and ever expressive eyes.

Adam was the first to greet him. "Hey, little buddy. Good to see you up and about." Joe hugged his brother about the waist. He then turned and did the same to Hoss. Though both brothers were acutely aware of the lack of energetic chatter and bombardment of questions that would have normally followed the six year old's greeting, they were just thankful to see their little brother had not lost his affection.

They all sat down for the noon meal.

Ben tried to encourage his son to eat, knowing at least the sandwiches would be something Joe could manage unaided, yet once seated, he merely picked at his food. Normally a fussy eater to begin with, Little Joe's appetite was practically non-existent when he wasn't feeling well. After an insurmountable time with Joe more or less picking the bread into pieces, Ben's frustration grew. "Joseph, you need to eat." Joe scowled and took a small bite to appease his father. "Drink some milk, Joseph," Ben said a short time later when he noticed his son had again, barely touched his food.

Joe reached over with his right hand to awkwardly grab the glass but it clanked against his plate and he lost his grip on it. Milk spilled everywhere, over his plate and down into his lap. "Joseph!" Ben bellowed before he'd realized the volume and tone of his voice. Joe's eyes literally widened into saucers at what he'd done as Ben jumped up and began mopping up the mess with his napkin.

Little Joe wanted to tell his pa how sorry he was, he hadn't meant to spill the milk and make a mess, but the words just wouldn't come. Tears welled in his eyes. Ben saw the anguish and frustration and his own guilt intensified. "Joseph. It's okay." But the little boy was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and angrily pushed his father away and got up and ran up to his room. "Adam, Hoss, can you?"

"Don't worry Pa, we'll clean up the mess," Hoss said.

€#€#€#€

Ben found Little Joe sitting on his bed. The boy looked up startled, then scrubbed his eyes. His chin quivered. Ben sat down next to him. "I'm sorry, Joseph. I didn't mean to yell at you. I know it was just an accident, spilling the milk. I know how awkward it must be for you to have to use your right hand so much right now. I'm not mad at you, but I guess you and I have both have had a frustrating day." Little Joe nodded.

Ben could tell his son wanted to say something more but just couldn't. He placed his hand across his son's back, squeezing the opposite shoulder. "Joseph. It's going to be okay, son. Your wrist will heal, and when you are ready, you'll talk again. In the meantime your brothers and I are here for you, understand?" Reluctantly the little boy nodded. Ben then hugged his son to him. "Now let me help you get out of those wet clothes and into something dry." They returned downstairs sometime later. Hoss and Adam had already cleaned up the mess and needed to return to work. Each gave their brother a hug before they left.

Joe's mood over dinner that night was again difficult to deal with. He picked at his food once again and at first refused to let anyone help him. He awkwardly managed to get a few bites into his mouth using his right hand but then had to suffer the indignity of his father helping him eat in the end while his older brothers watched. He grew frustrated and sullen and eventually just clamped his mouth shut and refused to eat any more. He adamantly refused to touch his milk. Ben's frustration grew as well but rather than stressing the boy further, he let the matter drop for tonight.

Hoss tried to interest his brother in a game of checkers afterwards, but Little Joe wanted nothing to do with it. Adam took up his guitar and filled the awkward silence with soft music, selecting pieces he knew his little brother was fond of. Slowly it seemed to work its magic and Little Joe's eyes grew heavy. A little later Ben carried him upstairs and tucked him into bed.

**TBC...**

**A/N: How am I doing so far? Hope I've kept your interest. Review appreciated**


	6. Chapter 6

**Usual disclaimers...don't own the show or the characters, wish I did...onward to the next chap...**

**Chapter 6**

Ben lifted Joe up into the buckboard wagon and climbed up next to him as Adam brought his saddled horse out of the barn. A few days had passed and today they were headed into Virginia City, first to see Doc Martin, then for Ben to talk to his lawyer Hiram.

At first when Ben told Joe their plans for the day, he had adamantly shook his head and clung to his father, suddenly afraid, but Ben had crouched down and reassured Joe everything was going to be all right. Adam volunteered to come along to look after Little Joe while Ben dealt with his business. He had some errands to attend to anyway and they needed to pick up some more supplies at the general store. Later they would all swing by the school and pick up Hoss and ride home together.

Usually whenever they rode into down, Little Joe would chatter incessantly the whole way about everything from horses to wondering what kind of candy would be in the confectionary jars at the general store. The ride in this time was very quiet. Little Joe sat close to his father while Adam rode along side next to them. As they neared town, the child grew more apprehensive, his gaze dropping shyly and he moved closer to Ben's side.

The first stop was Dr. Martin's office. It didn't take long for the doc to check Joe's wrist. He was satisfied to see the swelling had gone down and it was healing nicely, along with the bruises that were beginning to fade slightly. He still wanted Little Joe to keep the sling on for at least another week though. Afterwards he apologized and excused himself telling Ben he was needed out at Mrs. Fletcher's who had gone into labor earlier that morning, the expected delivery a breech, and would be gone for most of the day.

Once done with the doctor, Ben drove the buckboard over to the livery and helped Little Joe down while Adam dismounted. Ben's lawyer's office was a few blocks down the street. Before leaving, he gave Adam a list of supplies to pick up at the general store, which included several things he knew Hop Sing would need when he returned, not wishing to make the little oriental cook angrier than he was already sure to be once he examined the condition of his kitchen and pantry after several days of the Cartwrights having to fend for themselves. "I shouldn't be more than a few hours with Hiram. If you finish with the errands before I'm done, take Joe over to the cafe and treat him to a sarsaparilla," Ben instructed.

Adam took Little Joe's hand in his own, smiling down at him. "Don't worry, Pa, Joe and I will be just fine, won't we, sport?" Little Joe looked a little apprehensive, but smiled just the same.

Joe clung to Adam's hand as they entered the livery first before they would make their way over to the general store. The stable was always a place Joe enjoyed going, for the child, even at such a young age, had an affinity towards horses.

The owner, Amos, greeted them. "Well, hey, there Adam. What ya got there?" He asked indicating Joe who was still clutching Adam's hand and partially hiding behind his back. "Looks like ya gotta raccoon hiding back there but it's hard to tell." Amos leaned over. "Why, that's no racoon, I think it's another Cartwright, though I'm positive it can't be Hoss, so I'm guessing it must be Little Joe."

Adam tugged Joe's hand. "Hi, Amos. Joe's helping me run some errands today, aren't you buddy?" Joe came out from behind Adam and nodded.

Amos saw Joe's bruised cheek and the sling around his arm. "Well, what in tarnation happened to you, boy?"

Joe remained silent and stepped closer to Adam, hiding his bruised face again. He knew he shouldn't be afraid of Amos. The older man was kind and had always been very nice to him, but he just couldn't help it. Amos looked puzzled when Joe didn't answer. "Why, what's a matter? Ya ain't afraid of old Amos are ya?"

"Joe's had a couple of rough days, and not very talkative right now," Adam intervened knowing Joe didn't to draw unnecessary attention to himself or be bombarded with questions.

Amos read the guarded, protective look on Adam's face and nodded slightly. He smiled down at the boy. "I kin respect that. Man's gotta have some private thoughts every once in a while."

"I came in to pick up those bridles I left to be repaired a couple of weeks back, Amos, and I also wanted you to check one of Ranger's shoes out. I think it's misaligned."

"I got the bridles in the tack room. I'll go fetch 'em while you bring your horse on in."

Adam nodded. He went back outside and Joe followed closely behind. Adam didn't miss the skittish way Little Joe looked towards strangers passing by. He led Ranger into an empty stall and waited for Amos to return.

In the next stall over, a noise caught Little Joe's attention. He peeked around and found a mother cat with several tiny kittens. Amos approached, smiling. "Found her outside in the lumber pile a few days ago. Brought her in here where her babies would be warmer. You can pet them if ya like. Old momma cat here is real friendly." Joe got down on his knees and petted the kittens which where very soft and tiny. They meowed at his touch. "Would ya like ta hold one?" Joe nodded. Amos reached down and picked up a little tabby kitten, placing it in Joe's hand. He held the kitten on his lap and he looked up at Adam smiling.

Adam crouched down next to him, happy to see Joe starting to relax some. While Joe played with the kittens, Amos checked Ranger's shoe out, which was indeed misaligned. He told Adam, if he could wait, it shouldn't take him no more than twenty minutes to refit it properly. Adam told him he was in no hurry, content to sit next to Joe in the hay and watch him play with the kittens.

While they waited a few customers came into the livery, one wanting to stable his horse, the other returning a rented rig. Amos' stable boy handled both transactions. It was as the man on the horse was handing the reins over that he happened to glance inside the barn and noticed the young man dressed in black sitting in the hay. Adam shifted slightly, smiling at something, and the man saw the child, wearing a sling and sitting cross-legged with a couple of kittens on his lap. His eyes narrowed.

"Will that be all, mister?" The stable boy asked. When he got no reply, he repeated. "Mister?"

He tore his gaze away from the pair. "Yes," he replied brusquely. Turning on his heel, he left the livery, but didn't go far.

With Ranger, newly refitted, Adam and Little Joe headed back to the buckboard. Adam tied the horse to the back of the wagon and stowed the repaired bridles in the bed before helping Joe up onto the bench seat. With a click of the reins, he turned the team around and headed down Main Street, pulling the wagon up in front of the general store a few minutes later. Before going inside though, he led Little Joe across the street to collect the mail.

By the time they came out, the stranger from the livery had spotted the buckboard parked in front of the general store and shortly after saw the man dressed in black and the child emerging from the post office.

Adam carried a couple of small packages under one arm, while Little Joe carried a couple of letters in his free hand. Adam put a protective hand on the child's back as he led him across the busy dirt street. Little Joe smiled up at Adam as he handed the letters to his brother to deposit in the wagon with the rest of the mail. "Thanks, buddy."

"Adam! Adam Cartwright!"

He turned to see a slightly heavyset older woman striding purposely over to him, extending her hand out. Being a gentleman, Adam accepted it graciously. "Mrs. Perkins." Standing next to her was young woman, immaculately dressed. Adam tipped his hat slightly. "Rachael."

"Hello, Adam," she replied politely.

Adam had known Rachael Perkins for several years. He and Rachael had gone to school together, although she was a year ahead of him. Their families knew one another from their social standing, Mr. Perkins being the President of the bank and Mrs. Perkins a pillar of Virginia City's growing social society. They had three children, two sons, one living up in San Francisco, one in college back East and Rachael, their youngest.

In the last few years Rachael had blossomed into a remarkably beautiful woman, well schooled and proper, and for a while Adam might have even fancied here if there had been something deeper beneath the surface beauty. It also hadn't taken long to figure out Mrs. Perkins interest in him, especially when he turned eighteen, had far more to do with his father's money and their social status than Adam himself and for the last several months she had been trying vainly to fling Rachael at him like a baited hook.

"Where have you been hiding yourself, Adam?" Mrs. Perkins purred saccharine like. "We haven't seen you or your father in town for _weeks_ now."

"I'm afraid we've all been rather busy on the Ponderosa. We've been a bit short handed of late."

"Well I do hope the two of you will be able to pull yourselves away to join us for dinner. It's been _way_ too long since we've gotten together socially, and heaven knows Mr. Perkins could use the relaxation. Perhaps next Saturday?"

"I'll mention it to my father, but it's doubtful. It's been rather hectic this week. I'm only in town today to run some errands and look after Little Joe here while my father attends to some business."

The two women glanced at the little boy, almost as if noticing him for the first time. Mrs. Perkins wrinkled her nose haughtily. Adam felt Little Joe's hand slide apprehensively into his own. "Oh, yes. Your _half_ brother. From your father's marriage to that New Orleans woman."

Adam bristled at her tone and even Rachael appeared somewhat embarrassed by her mother callous and cruel remark.

It was well known that some had thought his father had married beneath his social status when he'd married Marie. And despite Adam's own rocky start in his relationship with his father's third wife, Marie had proven to be a warm, spirited woman, who genuinely loved and was devoted to his father and her two stepchildren. It had been Adam who had kept his distance, unable to fully accept her until it had been almost too late. Admittedly at twelve, he'd been angry and resentful at his father's sudden marriage to a woman several years younger and hadn't really wanted to give Marie a chance. It was something Adam still had trouble coming to terms with after her death.

But he bristled nevertheless when anyone dared to talk ill of Marie, especially in front of his little brother, for the child had loved his mother dearly. "Excuse me, ladies, but my _brother_ and I have some supplies to pick up." With that, Adam tugged on Little Joe's hand and ushered him into the store.

Several patrons were inside. Adam approached the counter and was greeted by Mr. Johansen. "Hello, there, Adam. What can I do for you today?" Adam handed the storekeeper the list. Mr. Johansen rubbing his chin thoughtfully checked the paper over. "I think I've got everything you need here. It will take me a little while to fill your order though."

"No rush. It will give Little Joe and I an excuse to check out your sweetening jars, maybe pick out something for he and Hoss."

The proprietor looked down over the counter to see the six year old hovering behind Adam. "Well, Little Joe, didn't hardly see you down there. How are you today?" Little Joe just stared back. Mr. Johansen frowned slightly when the normally talkative child remained quiet.

"Uh, Joe's not feeling the most talkative today."

The storeowner nodded. "Well, we just got a new shipment of molasses chips in, Hoss' favorite. Why don't you go over and check them out while I work on getting that order filled?"

Adam nodded. "Come on, little buddy, let's see what they've got." He led his brother to the other side of the long counter, smiling at Mrs. Johansen, also behind the counter, who was busy assisting another customer. Neither noticed the stranger entering the store and positioning himself unobtrusively behind a couple of barrels containing rakes and brooms and a stack of bolt fabrics as he discreetly observed the pair.

Adam watched his little brother's eyes as he explored the various tall glass jars filled with a colorful array of confectionaries. "Adam, can I see you for a moment?" Mr. Johansen called from the other end of the counter.

Adam looked up. Joe was still engrossed in trying to decide what he wanted. Adam smiled at him. "You keep looking, Little Joe, while I just step over and talk to Mr. Johansen a minute." The little boy nodded. Adam moved away but kept one eye on him.

"Can't quite make this out. Did you need ten or twenty pounds of dried beans and what kind?"

A young woman moved up to the counter with a bolt of fabric, addressing Mrs. Johansen with a question. Adam's view of his brother was momentarily blocked, but he leaned back slightly and could see Little Joe hadn't moved, still entranced by the candy jars. He smiled and went back to trying to read the list his pa had given him, the ink on the bottom portion of the list smudged.

No one seemed to notice the stranger's interest in the boy as he watched the child with half hooded eyes. He moved quietly from around a stack of bolt fabrics and inched closer until he was less than a few yards away.

Little Joe turned. The boy's eyes suddenly widened into saucers and his whole body stood froze in place. He opened his mouth to scream but no words came out.

The man stepped closer, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth as his eyes narrowed into menacing slits. Paralyzed in fear Little Joe's could only watch as a gloved hand reached out…

**TBC...**

**A/N: Yes, I know, another cliffy, but they are fun. Really! As always, reviews appreciated. They are like chocolate fudge cookies ;) Thanks for reading. BSG**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all the reviews and I am glad everyone is enjoying the read so far. Sorry about that little cliffy, but here's the next chap without too much of a delay...**

**Chapter 7**

Adam glanced up from the counter but once more his view of Little Joe was blocked, this time by a woman in a bustled dress and fancy feather hat. He leaned back but still couldn't see him. The proprietor was talking to him, asking him something, but he ignored him. "Excuse me a moment." He moved away.

"But Adam..."

Adam's eyes darted to the row of sweetening jars and his heart raced when he didn't see Joe standing there. He rushed over. "Joe? Little Joe?" He looked around but still couldn't find him. He grabbed a startled patron standing nearby. "Did you see where the little boy went? The one that was right here, standing next to the candy jars?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice."

Adam, trying not to give into his fast rising panic, darted around the bins and tables laden with wares, excusing himself rudely as he pushed passed a couple of irritated patrons blocking his way. He had nearly circled the entire store, his chest tight with dread, when he finally spotted a mop of dark curls wedged into a corner near a bin of dry goods.

"Joe!" He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, sinking down to one knee.

His initial relief was short lived though as he noticed Joe's face. It was paper white, the hazel green eyes stretched wide, staring across at a bin of bolt fabrics. Adam cupped his brother's face in his hands. "Little buddy, what is it?"

For a moment there was no reaction in him, just like when Adam had found him in the cabinet. Something had obviously terrified the boy utterly and completely. Something, or _someone_! Adam's head whipped around, searching frantically, but except for a couple of strange stares by the few customers standing nearby witnessing Adam's panic, everything seemed perfectly normal. He turned back to his little brother, dropping his hands to Joe's shoulders, shaking him gently. "Joe! Little Joe?"

The frightened eyes blinked, then slowly darkened in recognition of his brother. Tears suddenly welled around the spike of dark lashes. Little Joe's chin quivered with emotion.

"What is it, Joe? Did something scare you, buddy?"

Joe's whole body shook beneath Adam's touch. _He wasn't supposed to tell, not anyone! _He shook his head, more of a shaky, jerky movement.

Adam read the immense fear in his eyes and knew he was lying. It was then Adam noticed the front of Joe's pants. They were wet and there was a small puddle at his feet. Whatever had scared the child had been so great; Joe had lost control of his bladder. He brought Joe to him in a reassuring embrace. "It's okay, little buddy. It's okay." Joe buried his face in Adam's shoulder, hanging onto him tightly, sobbing silently into his shirt.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Johansen asked, concerned.

Adam stood up, lifting Joe with him. "Yes. I'm sorry, but my brother has had a bit of an accident."

Mrs. Johansen looked down at the small puddle, her face softening. Thinking that had been what had upset the boy, she said kindly. "No need to be embarrassed. Accidents happen sometimes with little ones. I should know. Raised five of my own."

"Thanks," Adam replied. "Uh, I better go get him cleaned up."

"Bring him to the back, Adam. I think I've got an old pair of Jimmy's pants that may fit him."

"Thank you, but that's not really necessary."

"Nonsense. No sense having the child feel more uncomfortable by having him go around the rest of the day in wet pants."

Adam nodded and followed the shop owner to the back of the store. Adam's eyes automatically glanced back to patrons still milling about, before ducking through the connecting door and a short hallway that led to living quarters attached to the back of the mercantile.

He stood in a small family room with an open adjoining dining area and kitchen. While he waited, Mrs. Johansen darted upstairs to where the bedrooms where apparently located and returned a few minutes later with a clean pair of pants.

All the while Joe kept his face hidden in Adam's neck, a combination of his fear and his embarrassment.

"Thank you," Adam said.

The woman nodded kindly. "I'll just leave you two alone. I'll be up front if you need me."

Once alone, he changed his little brother. The pants were a little too big and hung on Joe's thin hips. Adam took the belt off Joe's wet pair and used it to cinch up the baggier pair. He then cuffed the pant legs so Joe wouldn't trip on them. Adam then wiped his face with a cool cloth. "You okay now, little buddy?"

Joe looked down with a frown, obviously not pleased, but didn't complain. Instead he sought the security of his brother again, his mind still caught up in his fear...

_The gloved hand reached out towards him before a sound suddenly forced the man to step abruptly back. Their eyes locked and stranger raised his index finger to his lips in a silent warning, while his other hand moved his coat aside exposing the gleam of a pistol tucked at his side. The stranger's mouth curled upward in a menacing sneer before slipping away, disappearing behind the bins of bolt fabrics. Little Joe felt his body move, backing up in a desperate scramble to get away, to hid, only vaguely aware of his name being called as his fear overtook him. _

Little Joe shuddered, shutting his eyes tightly, his small scrawny arms clinging to Adam's neck, just wanting to forget and to feel safe again.

Adam comforted him, trying not to let his own fear and anger show. _He was just a little boy! _The thought of what Joe had gone through, was still going through, made the eldest brother's blood boil and he was bound and determined to protect the child at all cost!

€#€#€#€

Ben sat in the chair opposite to his lawyer. The attorney glanced over the revised contracts. "They look in order. I don't expect any foreseeable problems with the revisions in these." He handed them back to Ben.

"Thanks, Hiram."

"Not at all. It's what you're paying me for, anyway." Both men laughed.

Hiram chuckled. Ben rose. The lawyer escorted Ben out of his office. As he was exiting, Ben heard his named being called.

"Benjamin!"

A tall, distinguished gentleman with a white beard and carrying a cane stood in the outer office. A fashionably dressed young woman stood next to him.

"Coronel Stottlymyer." Ben greeted the retired Army Coronel turned successful businessman politely. "How are you, sir?"

"As well as can be expected for a man of my years. What's it been, Benjamin? A year? Two?"

"At the least."

The young woman standing next to him smiled. "And you remember my daughter, Anne?"

Ben returned the smile warmly. "Of course. How are you, Anne?"

"Just fine, Mr. Cartwright. Couldn't be better."

"Hiram said you were out of town this week," the Coronel said, for it was well known the retired officer always made it a point of looking Benjamin up whenever he came to Virginia City.

"I was, but had to cut my trip short."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" the Coronel asked.

"Family matters," was all Ben would say. "So what brings you to Virginia City this time, Coronel?"

The young woman looped an arm through the elder man's bent elbow. "Daddy's down looking into some investments with my fiancée," Anne replied.

Ben's brow arched, somewhat surprised. "Fiancée? I didn't know. Congratulations."

Anne smiled brightly back. "Thank you. He's a wonderful and brilliant man."

At this the Coronel rolled his eyes a bit and let out a small grunt. "He's a bit brazen, too full in the head, if you ask me," the Coronel huffed pompously.

"That's only because you think I'm still a child Dad! Honestly!" Anne reproached. "If it were up to the _Coronel_ here, Mr. Cartwright, I would be locked in my room still in pigtails."

Ben chuckled.

"You are _still _too young to be getting married!"

She rolled her eyes. "I am twenty years old, Dad! A full grown woman perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

"Hmph!" The Coronel scowled in his most intimidating military manner, but Anne simply leaned over and gave her father an affectionate peck on the check. "You can scowl all you want. It will do you no good. I am going be married and you are just going to have to accept it eventually, Dad." Anne smiled, her eyes laughing. "Now I'm going shopping and will see will see _you _over at the hotel later for dinner." Both Ben and Hiram couldn't help but smirk as the Coronel's scowl only deepened as he watched his daughter depart.

"You are blessed, Benjamin, to have only sons!" The Coronel sputtered in annoyance. "A whole regimen of solders I can have quaking under my boots, yet I am at a loss on how to deal with _one _daughter!"

Ben chuckled. "You may be right, Coronel, having no experience with daughters that is," Ben remarked, though truth be told, raising three sons with three very different personalities and three distinctly different temperaments on his own he was no easy feat either.

"They grow up too fast."

"Indeed," Ben agreed.

"Your older son, Adam, will be leaving for college soon, I hear?"

"Yes. He wants to study architecture."

"He's a fine young man, Benjamin. You should be very proud."

"I am, though I will miss him when he's gone."

"Yes, they do have a tendency to grow on you, no matter _how_ bossy and independent they may get." The Coronel quipped.

"Think of it not as loosing a daughter, sir, but of gaining a son," Ben tried to console the Coronel.

"Hmmph!" The Coronel merely grunted.

Ben, realizing the time, politely made his apologies, wanting to get back to Little Joe. He exchanged handshakes with the Coronel and thanked Hiram for his assistance.

Just as he stepped outside the lawyer's office, a young man rushing to get in bumped into him, dropping the stack of papers he had clutched in his hand. The young man apologized profusely as he quickly bent down to retrieve the papers before they could fly away. "I'm terribly sorry, sir," he muttered as he clutched the crumpled papers and hurried passed only for Ben to hear the Coronel bellowing loudly in his most authoritative military tone. "Where the devil have you been, Myers!" It was followed by meek "S-sorry, sir," that had Ben shaking his head, chuckling, and feeling a bit sorry for the poor young man left to face the Coronel's sour mood.

€#€#€#€

He expected to meet Adam and Joe at the cafe. When they weren't there Ben went over to the general store and was told by Mrs. Johansen that Adam had headed over to Sheriff Coffee's office and would be back for the supplies a little later. Concerned, Ben headed over to the jail. He found Adam and Roy Coffee talking quietly. Adam turned as his father entered. "Pa. I was just coming to find you."

Ben was immediately concerned. "What's going on? Where's Little Joe?"

"It's okay, Pa. He's asleep," Adam reassured, indicating an empty cell where Little Joe was curled up on his side in one of the bunks. The cell door was left open.

"Why are you here, Adam?"

Adam explained the incident in the store. After cleaning Joe up, he had intended to meet his father over at the cafe but Little Joe was still too upset and had decided instead to go Roy's office and discuss the incident with the sheriff. Roy had tried to talk to Little Joe but he had been too distraught and clung to Adam. Roy had backed away, not wishing to push the boy further and went to fetch Doc Martin. Unfortunately the doctor was still out of town and wasn't expected back until later that day.

"What do you think happened?" Ben asked with great concern.

"I'm not sure, but I think Little Joe saw something or someone that scare him to death. The look on his face was just like when I found him in that cabinet. He was absolutely terrified." The information deeply troubled Ben.

Roy Coffee also voiced his concern, for if indeed Little Joe had seen one of the killers here in Virginia City, it placed the boy in considerable danger. If only he could find a way to communicate with the frightened child.

In the meantime, Roy was still looking for answers and remembering the previous conversation he'd had with Adam the morning after the murder.

"Adam mentioned Miss Richards' had come out to the Ponderosa a few weeks ago to see you. What did she want to talk to you about?" Roy asked Ben, hoping to shed some light as to why the young woman was been killed.

Ben thought back. "She wanted to discuss the possibility of selling the ranch," he replied. "Wanted my advice."

"She give a reason why?"

"She just said that since her father had passed away, she felt too lonely, too isolated out there. She was thinking of moving into town, opening a small business perhaps, but she wasn't sure what the value of the ranch was anymore since her father hadn't done much for improvements on the place since he'd bought it." Ben scratched the back of his head. "Truth be told, Matthew Richards wasn't much of a rancher."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, he didn't seem to know much about cattle raising. He asked Adam and I quite a lot of questions when he first moved in. Not that we minded. Matthew was a good neighbor and Miss Richards was very kind and helpful, especially after Marie passed away."

"What about any kin? I far as I can recollect it was just Matthew and his daughter."

"Well, there was a son, I believe, though I'm not sure where to find him. Matthew nor Millie ever really talked about him much. And the few times he was mentioned, both seemed to change the subject."

"How do you mean?"

"Oh, just as if it were a sore spot or a sad one for them. I never pushed."

Roy made a mental note of the information, before sitting back in his chair. He picked up his pencil and twirled it between his fingers. "Ben, have you given any more thought to it being someone with a grudge after you?"

"I have. But truth be told, I can't imagine anyone wanting commit murder on an innocent young woman and harm Joe just to get back at me for something."

"What about Luke Bishop?" the sheriff asked.

"Luke? What about him?"

"I heard he was in the saloon the other day," the Sheriff mentioned.

"And?" Ben asked.

"Well, according to a few of the gals over at the Silver Dollar, he had a few too many and was mouthing off again about you and that strip of land along the Truckee river."

Ben shook his head adamently. "Now, look here, Roy. I've known Luke Bishop as long as I been here. We practically homesteaded our lands the same year."

"That may be true, but Luke does have a temper and a bit of spite in him, and he's been caterwauling about that piece of land between you two for the last several months now."

Ben shook his head. "You and I both know they only reason Luke is even interested in that land is to strip the timber off it."

"Well. It is a prime timber."

"Yes, that also happens to support a major water shed. Luke knows that, as well as I do. Stripping that section of land would only risk flooding prime pasture in the Spring, both on the Ponderosa and several of my neighbors in the valley, including Luke. He's just being stubborn."

"That may be so, but I think its still worth having a little talk with him. I could be a motive."

Ben sighed. Despite their differences, he knew Luke Bishop, and wouldn't believe, even for profit or spite, his neighbor would have anything to do with murdering a young woman or harming a child, especially Little Joe.

Adam wasn't so convinced. "Pa. The sheriff, does have a point," he said. "Roy at least needs to talk to him."

Been reluctantly conceded with a nod of his head.

He looked at the clock and realized it was almost time for Hoss to be getting out of school. "I'll go fetch him, Pa, as soon as I picked up the supplies," Adam offered.

Ben also realized he still needed to send several wires off to his business associates in San Francisco. He stood undecided. "Go ahead, Ben. Leave Little Joe here. Let him sleep. I'll watch over him until you get back. He'll be perfectly safe here, I assure you," the lawman declared.

Ben hesitated, but reluctantly agreed. "I'll be back shortly."

€#€#€#€

Roy kept a close watch on the boy while he sat behind his desk reviewing a stack of wanted posters that had come in on the noon stage the previous day. Little Joe shifted in the bunk and the child's face pinched up in distress and he began to thrash about, kicking the blanket off onto the floor. For a moment the sheriff thought he would awaken suddenly, but instead Little Joe just curled into himself a little tighter and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Roy got up and walked into the cell, picking the blanket up off the floor and covering the child back up. As a lawman, Coffee had seen many atrocities, especially inflicted on the weak and innocent, and as his eyes rested on the innocent face, still bruised, his own sense of protectiveness came out. Once assured the boy had fallen back into a deep sleep, Roy returned to his desk.

Joe was just waking up when Ben returned. The sleepy child readily curled up on his father's lap as he sat on the bunk in the empty cell. He snuggled into his father's embrace and felt safe. Adam returned with Hoss and the supplies shortly thereafter.

While Adam helped Joe up onto the buckboard, Sheriff Coffee motioned silently to Ben and the two stepped away to talk privately for a moment. "Ben. I know Little Joe's still too scared right now to talk, but when he's feeling better I'd like to try and have him look through some wanted posters. He may at least recognize someone, point him out."

None of them had noticed the dark haired man who had positioned himself discreetly across the street from the Sheriff's Office, move and cross the street, going around back and making his way to the alley next to the jail. He remained out of sight but was close enough to overhear part of the conversation between the sheriff and the senior Cartwright.

"I know it's a long shot, but it might at least give us a start. In the meantime, Ben, in light of what just happened, I think it would best you keep the boy out of town and on the Ponderosa."

Ben agreed. Joseph's safety was of upmost importance. Roy watched as Ben climbed aboard the buckboard next to Joe while Hoss and Adam mounted their horses and followed as Ben turned the team around and headed out of town. Roy watched until they disappeared, and then resumed his rounds, unaware of the stranger in the alley slipping soundlessly away.

€#€#€#€

In an upstairs room of the International House later that day, one man paced nervously back and forth, while his partner leaned up against the wall, fiddling with a nickel-plated pistol.

"I don't like it," he snapped. "It's too dangerous. The boy...He's seen us. What if he's already talked? What if they know about us? Our plans?"

"The brat's too scared to say anything right now." The taller man replied, his mouth twisting into a sadistic grin. "Should have seen him piss his pants at the sight of me." The grin vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with barely suppressed rage as he snapped the chamber on the pistol shut. The other man jerked, his fingers subconsciously going up to his neck.

The flesh there was still tender from moments before when he had been pinned to the wall by the strength of gloved hands pressing into the flesh when he had returned to his room to find his partner waiting for him. Their grip had tightened, robbing him of his ability to draw air in, while those same black damning eyes had bored into him with accusation, tinged with wild savagery that always left the other man edgy.

Unable to hold the pinned gaze, the meeker man had dropped his eyes downward to the wide scarf about the other man's neck, worn high and tucked beneath the turned up collar of his overcoat. His eyes became fixated on the tip of marred flesh just poking out, not quite concealed beneath the crimson cloth.

Breath, sour with the taste of whiskey and the pungent aroma of tobacco, had assaulted his senses as his partner had leaned in close, snarling..."I ought to kill you right now!" The hands had tightened, pressing into the hollow base of his throat until black spots had appeared in his vision before he was abruptly released. Nearly collapsing, he coughed, sucked in air and shakily sagged against the door.

Now twitching nervously, the meeker man raked his fingers through his slicked back, greasy hair, trying to figure a way out of this mess before both found themselves facing the gallows. "It will never work. We'll never get close enough." He tried to argue, to make his partner see reason. "And the Cartwrights are no fools. Ben Cartwright will have the boy too well protected now after your little stunt!"

"Leave that to me."

"What are you going to do?" Trepidation laced the question.

"What should have been done in the first place!" The other man snapped, holding the pistol to the man's face. "And as for you. You'll do exactly as you're told this time, or _so help me,_ the brat won't be the only one who's gonna disappear!"

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Usual disclaimers...don't owe the show, wish I did...onto next chap (thanks everyone for hanging in there, waiting)...This chaps a bit long too.**

**Chapter 8**

The next few days passed without incident on the Ponderosa. Little Joe's physical condition continued to improve; yet the boy remained mute and stuck close to his family.

Hop Sing returned from his vacation. Immediately the short Chinese cook took over the household, sputtering in Cantonese at the disarray of the kitchen and the condition of his little boy, (which is how he thought of Little Joe). The cook was not just an employee, but was treated like an honored member of the family.

With zealousness, the little oriental man spent the next few days cleaning and fixing meals that all the Cartwrights, (Hoss in particular), were extremely grateful for after fending for themselves. Hop Sing even made some special dishes he knew Little Joe liked in an attempt to get the finicky child to eat, noticing how thinner the already slim child looked. It was a challenge considering Joe's left wrist was still wrapped in a bandage.

Joe's muteness still lead to silent outbursts of frustration between Joe and all the members of his family, except maybe Hoss. For some reason, they just seemed to communicate without the need for much talking.

Hoss took Little Joe out to the barn with him while he did his chores. Though he never said anything to Joe, Hoss, like the rest of his family, missed the sound of his little brother's voice, his giggly high-pitched laughter and even his mouthy outbursts of temper and hated to think Little Joe would be permanently mute.

Of Adam, Joe saw little of him during the day due to the amount of work backed up on the ranch. He left right after breakfast and didn't get back until late and was generally exhausted by the end of the day. Yet Little Joe sought him out and Adam, unable to deny the seeking and ever trustful eyes, couldn't deny the boy his time.

As Adam read to Joe, his deep baritone voice changed in tone and pitch to reflect the unfolding adventure of _The Three Musketeers_, bringing the story to life. It was one of Joe's favorite stories, especially the sword play scenes because it reminded the boy of his mother and her New Orleans heritage (his mother not only possessing a spirited and adventurous nature, but she had also been an expert fencer and horsewoman). Little Joe, sitting on Adam's lap, smiled as he pointed to the pictures, completely entranced. Adam's own eyes lit with life as he read and saw his brother's enjoyment.

Ben, sitting in his high back leather chair, smoking his pipe, didn't interfere, knowing his eldest needed this for he knew Adam still carried a great sense of guilt over what had happened to Joe under his care. Adam had always taken his duties towards his brothers very seriously and although Ben had tried his best to let him know that he placed no blame or fault on him, he also knew as long as Joseph remained mute, it tore at Adam's heart.

...

Things eased up a bit later in the week when they were at last able to hire on some more men to help out. The first was a much needed bronc buster Hank managed to find. The other two men were wranglers Ben hired on, a day apart from each other. Both wranglers were in their late twenties to early thirties, and though one was a little rougher around the edges than Ben cared for, both were experienced. Ben assigned them to Charlie to help out with the herd.

One of the mares foaled the next day, but the newborn colt was weak. Hoss, always tenderhearted about animals, spent a considerable amount of time caring for the new colt that needed to be bottle nursed. Little Joe tagged along wanting to help. Hoss, ever patient, showed Joe what to do, which his baby brother did with diligence despite his youth and the awkwardness of having to do the task with his right hand. He then gave Little Joe a brush and the youngster spent the next half hour brushing the colt down as it lay in the hay while Hoss went about the rest of his chores. As he mucked out the stable, out of the corner of his eye Hoss watched, pleased to see his brother relaxed and happily interacting. Afterwards Joe sat perched on a bail of hay and watched as the colt awkwardly stumbled to his feet, then shakily took its first steps to its mother, nuzzling the mare's side.

"Well, lookey there, Little Joe. He's got some spunk in him at last, thanks to your tending," Hoss said. Joe beamed, smiling proudly up at his older brother. Hoss finished mucking out the barn and then went to take the wheel barrel around back to dump. "Be right back, little brother."

...

Little Joe sat watching the colt and didn't notice the two men entering the barn. When he did, he jumped up startled and skittishly backed away. The rougher looking of the two smiled with some amusement. "Hello there, kid." Joe just stared wide-eyed and kept his distance. "You the one they call Little Joe, ain't that right?" Joe remained silent. "Heard all about you. Your rich daddy and brothers are real smitten with you." Joe took a few steps back, not liking the strangers instantly. "What's the matter kid? Scared?" He laughed glancing over at his partner who grinned slyly. Joe remained mute, staring with wide, anxious eyes, aware the two men stood between him and the door and suddenly he felt desperately trapped. He began to panic when a voice boomed from the doorway.

"Hold it right there!"

Little Joe's head spun about to see Adam standing in the doorway, his gun aimed at the two men.

"What are you doing here, Colvarre?" Adam demanded, recognizing the two men instantly as the two wranglers he had fired a week or so ago.

Colvarre regarded the younger man dressed in black with distain. He hadn't forgotten the fight or the way the snot-nosed eighteen year old rich-boy had fired him. He curled his lip slightly. "I ain't hurt the kid none."

"I asked you a question," Adam repeated hardly. "What are you doing here?"

Colvarre's eyes glittered at the demanding tone but was careful not to make any sudden moves. "We came to collect our pay. You still owe us Cartwright."

"Step away from the boy!"

"Sure, Cartwright, whatever you say." The two men moved slowly. Once they had moved out from between the two brothers, Little Joe skirted closer to Adam.

"You'll get your pay. After that neither of you will ever step foot on Ponderosa land again."

"Or else what?"

Adam cocked his gun, his eyes hard. "Don't tempt me. Now move. Outside."

The two men glanced at the gun still aimed at them and started walking out of the barn, but as they passed through the door, they separated a little, each glancing over at the other one, grinning slightly now that they had their backs to Adam. Colvarre saw the pitchfork leaning up against the door and his partner silently nodded in understanding.

Their smiles dropped however when they heard the cock of another gun and someone say, "I wouldn't try it."

They both looked up to see a fair-haired stranger standing just outside, a gun belt loosely tossed over his right shoulder and a pistol held firmly in his left hand.

Hoss came back around the corner with the empty wheel barrel and stopped short as he saw Adam and the other man poised, guns drawn on the two other men now standing in the yard between them. Hoss recognized them both immediately. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Watch them!" Adam said, though Hoss wasn't sure if the request was directed at him, the fair-haired stranger or both. Little Joe hung anxiously back by the barn door as Adam walked purposely back into the house, only to re-emerged a few minutes later. Adam tossed their pay at their feet. "Pick it up and get out!"

Colvaree cautiously stooped down and picked up the money, looking at it disdainfully. "This it?" He complained. "Where's the rest?"

"It's what's due you, two weeks pay and not a penny more. Now get going!"

Colvarre looked at the money and again at Adam and the stranger who stood cautiously watching the exchange. His partner, Durhan, apparently seeing their disadvantage lost, nudged Colvarre. "Come on. Let's go." Colvarre jerked his shoulder away in protest, but nevertheless shoved the money in his pocket and followed the other wrangler to their horses left tethered near the corral.

"Don't come back," Adam warned.

The two men mounted and rode out.

Once Adam was sure they were gone did he reel around on Hoss. "Where were you?" He demanded.

"I-I was dumping a load of dirty straw and manure down at the compost heap. Weren't gone for more than a couple of minutes."

"You're supposed to be watching Little Joe!" He spat angrily back.

"I was. I mean, I'm sorry Adam," Hoss replied, stung a bit by Adam's razor sharp tone.

Adam read the look of real hurt and guilt on his younger brother's face and rubbed the back on his neck irritably. "I'm sorry, Hoss. I didn't mean to snapped at you."

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Cartwright?" The fair-haired man spoke. It was then Adam's attention turned back to the other man still standing, looking a bit confused as he slid his gun a bit awkwardly back into his holster still flung loosely across his shoulder while holding his right arm up, which was wrapped in a cloth and stained crimson.

"I'm sorry." Adam apologized, having completely forgotten the initial reason for his unexpected return to the ranch house when he'd seen the look of anxiety and fear on Little Joe's face. Hoss came over, regarding the injured stranger curiously, while Little Joe inched away from the barn door to stand next to his brothers.

"Hoss, this is Colby Flint," Adam introduced. "The bronc buster Hank found us. Colby, my brother Hoss, and this here is my youngest brother, Little Joe."

The bronc buster smiled at both. "Pleased to meet you."

Hoss nodded to the man's forearm. "What happened ta you?"

"Aw, just a little cut," the man congenially replied. "Got it caught on a nail sticking out of the fence when that last bronc threw me. Nothing serious, really. Leastwise that will keep me from getting on that Black again," he laughed. "I was enjoying the ride."

"You're pretty good. I have to admit. Never seen a man stick to a piece of horseflesh so well," Adam replied.

Little Joe, who had been listening to the conversation, moved closer, his interest peeked at the mention of breaking horses. It was something the little boy absolutely loved to watch, (on the very rare occasions his pa dared to let him).

"Ain't met a horse yet I can't lick." The man winked down at the little boy listening intently. Joe smiled back shyly. "And I sure appreciate the jobs when I can get them."

"You proved yourself," Adam replied. "And by the way, thanks."

"Sure, no problem. Um...if you don't mind, think I better go wash this off with a little lye soap," the bronc buster said, indicating his arm.

Adam shook his head. "That nail was rusty. Come inside the house and I'll have Hop Sing, our cook, take a look at it." He didn't give the man a chance to protest, but steered him towards the house.

Hoss, with Little Joe at his side, followed. "Think we'll join ya. I could use a break and I do believe Hop Sing was baking cookies earlier."

Hop Sing was none too pleased about being interrupted from his duties, but nonetheless took charge and ordered the injured man to sit on a stool. He looked at all four of them, but eyed Hoss and Little Joe in particular. "No touch nothing!" The little cook threatened as gathered up the needed supplies. Little Joe blinked and Hoss looked sheepish. Adam just shook his head in amusement while the bronc buster sat a little clueless.

While Hop Sing went bout cleaning the cut, Hoss asked how long Colby had been busting broncs. The young man, trying not to wince as Hop Sing cleaned the wound with something that must have stung nearly as bad as a yellow jacket by his expression replied, "Oh, since I was fifteen I guess."

"Where have you worked?" Adam inquired.

"Uh..just about everywhere from Northern California down into Mexico. My last job was up on a spread about thirty miles west of Reno, the Double Valley."

"I know the place. That's Tom Ramsey's place. He still mean as an old bear?" Adam said.

Colby nodded. "An as ornery. Never met such a wiry old coot either. A stiff wind, I swear, could blow him away if he wasn't so dang cantankerous." Adam laughed for that was just the description of Old Man Ramsey. Colby told them about some of his experiences busting horses. Hoss and Little Joe listened with interest and Colby winked at Adam who could tell the man was embellishing a few of them for the entertainment of his brothers.

Hop Sing applied a herbal salve to ward off infection, which apparently felt a heck of a lot better than whatever the cook used to clean the wound with, then wrapped the cut in a clean bandaged. "You keep clean, changed dressing if get wet," the cook grunted when he was finished.

Colby thanked him.

Hoss reached for another cookie. Hop Sing, with lightening speed, grabbed a wooden spoon and slapped his hand hard. Hoss yelped, snatching his hand back. "Ouch! Dang burnit, Hop Sing! What you go and do that for?"

"No more cookies! Boy already eat too many! Leave nothing for dessert later! Now all of you, out of Hop Sing kitchen. Have work to do. No more time for foolishness!" The little oriental man hustled them out of the kitchen. Hoss managed to swipe one more cookie on his way out. He laughed, then ducked as Hop Sing threw the wooden spoon at him. It was followed by a tirade of Cantonese.

Both Adam and Hoss laughed. Even Little Joe smiled. Colby grinned, apparently not sure what think. "Is he always like that?"

"Worse," Hoss said. "But he sure knows how ta cook! I'd plum near starve ta death around here iffin' we had to fend for ourselves on a permanent basis."

Colby chucked. "Well, I guess I better get back to busting that Black."

"Sure you're up to it?" Adam asked. "That Black is the most spirited, onerous one in the whole string."

"I'm sure, Mr. Cartwright. Besides it's a little personal now. That big Black has thrown me twice. He's not going to do it a third time. It's a matter of pride now."

"That might be something worth comin' ta watch," Hoss replied, grinning. He felt a little tug on his hand and looked down to see Little Joe staring back at him with an almost pleading look in his eye. "Ya wanta come watch too, eh, little brother?" Little Joe nodded his head vigorously.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Adam interjected. "You know how dangerous the corrals can be when we are breaking horses. Pa will have a fit."

Little Joe's face fell. Hoss couldn't stand the disappointed look, especially after he'd seen the first glimmer of Joe's old self beneath his fear. "Ah, let him come big brother, just this once. Ya know there ain't no one who doesn't like horses more than little brother here. I'll watch over him, I promise."

Little Joe looked at Adam with the same silent, earnest, pleading look out of those expressive hazel eyes. It was hard for even Adam to resist. "Come on, Adam," Hoss implored. "Pa won't be back for a few hours yet and he don't have'ta know, lessin' we tell 'em."

Two against one, or three if you counted Colby smiling and nudging his brother. "Oh, all right!" Adam finally conceded, but he pointed a finger at Hoss. "But you just make sure you keep the kid a safe distance away from those broncs and don't leave his side for a second! Pa will have both our hides if he gets just one more scratch on him!"

"Don't worry big brother. Joe and me will stick together like glue."

As promised, Hoss kept Joe at a safe distance, but close enough for Little Joe to see the action. Several hands gathered around to watch as well. It was indeed a good show. The Black tried its hardest to unseat its rider. The spectators cheered as Coby stuck to him until both rider and horse were exhausted. Finally Colby was helped off the horse by another rider, while a third hand grabbed the reins of the Black. The horse wasn't broken quite yet, but it was a start.

Adam extended his hand. "Nice ride!" Colby grinned.

"That sure was the dang prettiest thing ta watch," Hoss said, pumping the man's hand as well.

Colby turned to Little Joe, who was balanced on the rail and held around his middle by Hoss. "And what about you, squirt? Did you like it?" Little Joe shook his head vigorously and the young bronc buster laughed.

"What the devil is Joseph doing here?" All three men heard the deep bellow from behind them. Both Adam and Hoss cringed and turned to see their father sitting tall in the saddle, a thunderous look on his face. He dismounted, striding over to his sons.

Little Joe wiggled down off the rail and out of Hoss' arms, running over to his father, the look of pure joy on his face. He flung his free arm around his father's waist, hugging him. When he looked up, his eyes glittered brightly, then tugged on his father's hand. Both Adam and Hoss both looked more than a bit uneasy at their father's scowl, but wisely decided to let the six year old use his charm on their father first before attempting an explanation.

"Hi, Pa," Adam finally said and Hoss added. "We was just watchin' Colby ride. Uh...and well Joe here, wanted to watch too."

"Indeed," Ben said, the scowl remaining on his face.

"He was perfectly safe, Pa, really." Adam assured.

"Joseph has no business down here and both you boys know it!"

"Aw, Pa. It done the little fella some good. Put a real smile on his face, see." Hoss said.

Ben couldn't deny it. He'd not seen his youngest child smile a real smile since the tragic incident. His tone softened a little as he cupped the back of Joe's head. "Yes, well. I suppose you boys are right in that." The six year old beamed up at his father.

"Can he stay, Pa? Just for a little while. Adam is up next."

Joe tugged on his father's arm, eyes pleading his desire as well. "I wouldn't mind watching myself for a few minutes, so I suppose so."

The next horse they brought out was a bay. Adam donned his riding chaps and waited for the wranglers to ready the horse. When they were all set, Adam climbed up the rail, then eased down into the saddle. The wranglers waited until Adam had a good grip on the reins and nodded that he was ready before they released the animal. The Cartwrights watched as the eldest son took his turn, sticking to the bucking horse quite well. Hoss hollered and whooped while Ben grinned his pride at Adam's fortitude. He managed to last not quite as long as Colby before the animal finally threw him. Adam landed with a thud in the dirt. The wranglers moved in to get control of the animal while Colby came forth, extending his hand to help Adam up. "Nice ride."

"Almost had him." Adam replied, frowning slightly as he dusted off his backside.

"Next time, I'm sure you will."

"What about you, Hoss. You want to give it a go?" Colby asked.

Hoss laughed. "No. I leave _that _job to big brother."

"Which I am sure the horses are eternally thankful for," Adam replied, nudging his younger brother's bigger girth.

"I think that's enough for all of you today," Ben said.

Hoss looked up at the sky, seeing dark clouds moving in. "May not get much more of a chance today anyway. Looks like a storm's movin' in, Pa."

Ben agreed. "I'll take Joe back with me while you boys see to the stock," he told his sons. He mounted his horse and Adam lifted Little Joe up so he sat in front of his father. Little Joe smiled and waved goodbye to his brothers.

Ben looped his arm around Joe. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

The little boy nodded vigorously and Ben couldn't help but grin.

Hoss and Colby led the horses to a small fenced pasture. "Cute kid, your brother," Colby commented as he secured the padlock. "He sure don't say much though. Guess he's just shy?"

"Joe? Normally it's the complete opposite. We can't shut him up," Hoss replied. "He's just going through kinda a hard time right now. Sure do miss the sound of his voice, though."

"Guess that has something to do with that sling and the bruise on his face?" Colby asked. Hoss frowned, feeling a little uncomfortable with Colby's questions. "Sorry. Didn't mean to pry," the bronc buster apologized.

"It's okay. We're just pretty protective of Little Joe right now."

Colby nodded. "I can understand. Have me a brother just like that, always gettin' into scraps," he chuckled.

€#€#€#€

Several of the ranch hands were just coming back for the evening, hungry, dusty and dirty, and in various stages of removing and stowing their gear when Adam, Hoss and Colby returned.

Charlie, their most experienced stock hand, was in the middle of a disagreement with one of the newly hired hands. "Look here, Burks, I've had enough of your lip flappin'. Everyone has to take their turn on watch, and with the storm coming in, the herd is likely to be antsy." He told him. "Tonight you and Trent have the watch." The new hand grumbled loudly.

"Is there a problem here?" Adam asked.

"Seems Burks here thinks he's too good to have to pull night watch tonight like the rest of us."

"That so?" Adam asked, crossing his arms.

"I don't see why, just 'cause were the new guys, that we have to be the ones sitting out in the rain all night," the new hand complained.

"Because that's what you are being paid for," Adam replied, in no mood for another confrontation with another disagreeable hand. "The rest of the men here have already pulled double duty over the last few weeks rounding up and moving the herd down. It's your watch tonight. If you have a problem with that, or in taking orders you're free to collect your wages now and leave." He looked at the other hand. "And that goes for you too!"

Adam stood, hands on hips, the black eyes just waiting for either to challenge him back. For a second it looked like Burks was going to do just that but held his tongue instead. Trent, apparently a bit wiser, kept silent. Burks turned and went back to unsaddling his horse, bumping into the bronc buster as he did so. He muttered something under his breath before brushing past.

Charlie gave a nod and a slight grin of approval to Adam, for truth be told, the two new hands had been grating on his nerves and he thought both were a bit lazy. He was proud to see the young Cartwright holding his ground without batting an eye though. Ben would be right proud of him, the older, experienced wrangler thought.

With the disagreement apparently settled, Charlie wandered off, eager to soak his aching bunions leaving, Hank, their foreman, to discuss the rest of the ranch matters with Adam. Satisfied with what had been done over the last several days, and knowing how hard all the all the men had been working over the last few weeks, Adam told Hank the men could knock off early Saturday. He'd already discussed it with his father and Ben had agreed. The decision was received with a round of cheers by the men still standing around.

Hoss walked over, saddle in hand. "Say, Adam, since you're letting all the men off early Saturday, why don't we take Little Joe fishing then?" he suggested. "We still owe him a trip."

"Sounds good to me. We could use the break ourselves. That is if we don't get rained out."

Hoss looked up at the sky. "Ah, that old storm blowing in ain't gonna last long. By Saturday, it should be right pretty and I know just the spot!"

€#€#€#€

After dinner and before the storm hit, Adam and Hoss went to the barn to make sure everything was secure for the night when Adam _thought _he saw someone lurking around the corner of the house. "Wait here," he told Hoss, darting off and around the side of the building before Hoss could say two words.

By the time he had made it around back, the figure had disappeared. Adam searched through the stand of trees that stood in a thick grove, his gun drawn, but it was too dark to see clearly. The rustle of leaves off to his right had Adam spinning about, but it turned out to be only a pack rat scurrying through the brush. When he tripped on a root in the dark, Adam was forced to return to the house where Hoss was anxiously waiting. "What in tarnation was that all about?"

"Nothing. I just thought I saw something." The wind started to pick up as the first heavy drops of rain hit the ground. "Come on. We better make sure everything's tightened down in the barn," Adam said, not wanting to worry his brother.

€#€#€#€#

A solitary figure stood in the shadows, glancing up at the second story bedroom, watching the silhouetted figure move behind the lace curtain. In the darkness, no one noticed the slight smile on his face as he adjusted his hat and pulled the collar of his rain slicker up before slipping away. Twenty minutes later he reined his horse up in front the entrance to an old mine.

Dismounting, he slowly made his way inside. It didn't surprise him when he felt the cold steel of a barrel against his neck "Little antsy, aren't you?"

"Just being cautious." The gunman withdrew his weapon. A moment later he took a slim cigar out of his coat pocket and proceeded to light it, illuminating a chiseled face, a dark head of hair and a scarf worn high up on his neck. "Well?" he asked impatiently.

The other man whose features were still silhouetted in the shadows merely shrugged. "It won't be easy. The kids well protected."

"I didn't come all the way out here for you to tell me something I didn't know!"

"I said it won't be easy. I didn't say I couldn't do it, for the right price, of course."

Even in the dim lighting, the gunman felt the other smile, as if it were a game. "I told you. You'll get your reward, _after _I get the kid," he replied hardly.

"What do you plan to do with him?"

"That's my business."

"And the other one?"

"I think you already know the answer to that."

**TBC...**

**A/N: thanks everyone for the reviews and encouragement to continue. As always, reviews appreciated :) BSG**


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: T rating applies. This chap contains some explicit scenes of physical violence and abuse.**

**Chapter 9**

Ben came downstairs. He had just put Little Joe, who had fallen asleep in the blue chair, to bed. He had left the door to his son's room open, which was closest to the stairs. Adam was coming out of the kitchen with a cup of hot coffee and joined his father, a towel draped around his shoulders, his hair still slightly wet from the mad dash back into the house after it had started to rain heavily. Hoss had opted to stay out in the barn for a while, wanting to check up on the new foal and calm the mare who had become a little skittish.

Adam was glad Hoss had chosen to stay outside because he hadn't yet had a chance to discuss the events that had transpired earlier that afternoon.

"You think Colvarre intends to cause any more trouble?" Ben asked.

"I don't know. What I do know is he has a grudge ever since I fired him and I didn't like the way he was eyeing Little Joe." The thought drew a deep concern from the senior Cartwright especially after Adam told him about seeing someone lurking around the side of the house.

"Was it Colvarre?"

"I couldn't tell. It was too dark."

The idea disturbed the patriarch immensely. "I think Roy ought know about this. I want you to ride into town in the morning, Adam, fill him in. In the meantime I'll posted a few extra hands around the house as a precaution."

€#€#€#€

Upstairs Little Joe was curled warmly up in bed...

_He gripped Ranger's reins and guided the horse along the path that would take them to Miss Millie's ranch. The day was clear and bright as he chatted with Adam who sat behind him. He was excited, not only about Adam giving him the reins to his prize horse, but about going fishing later. He couldn't wait to try the new pole Hoss had made for him. _

_Miss Millie met them in the yard when they rode in. She smiled at Little Joe and he smiled back. _

_The freshly baked cinnamon rolls Miss Millie offered were warm and gooey and delicious. Even Adam enjoyed them. Miss Millie packed up several for Hoss too. She then told them she was going to bake some apple pies and offered to make one up for them to take home later and have for desert that night. Adam laughed. "That is if Hoss doesn't eat it all first while we're fishing!" He turned to Joe, ruffling his curls. "Be good, Little Buddy, and help out Miss Millie like a big boy. I'll be back for you after lunch."_

_"Okay, Adam. But first I'm gonna dig up some worms while you're gone. A _whole _bunch!"_

_"You do that, sport!" Adam smiled._

_Miss Millie gave him a small tin bucket and for the next hour he happily collected his worms. He giggled and laughed as they squirmed in his dirty hands as he dug them out of the ground. Miss Millie wrinkled her face a bit when he proudly showed her his collection, but smiled nevertheless at his enthusiasm. He then helped gather the eggs and milk the cow. While she carried the eggs in, he insisted on carrying the pail of milk, wanting to be a big boy like both his brothers._

_As they walked across the yard back to the house though, he slipped in a patch of mud. His feet went out from under him and he landed on his backside, the pail of milk spilling all over his clothes. Miss Millie came to his aid, but by the time she helped him up, he was caked in mud and uncomfortably wet. She brought him around to the back porch and stripped him out of his wet clothes, tossing them into the washtub next to the back door, before bringing him inside. In the bedroom she dug out an old shirt that belonged to her father, she told him, offering it to him, telling him she'd rinse his wet ones out and hang them up, assuring him they would be dry before Adam came back to pick him up._

_The shirt was too big and he was trying to button it up when he thought he heard shouting. He opened the bedroom door to ask Miss Millie if he could at least have his boots back when the back door burst open and a stranger entered, pushing Miss Millie roughly inside. _

_ "Let me go! You're hurting me!"_

_"What's the matter, Millie? You don't seem to happy to see me."_

_"Please. Just leave me alone. I-I don't want any trouble."_

_"Little too late for that, honey." The man pulled her close. She struggled and he twisted her arm behind her back. "You shouldn't have run away." _

_"Let me go!" She tried to fight him, but he just laughed at her struggles. Then the man said things Little Joe didn't understand, and used words, terrible words, his Pa surely would have given him, Hoss or even Adam a big tanning if any of them had ever spoken them aloud. _

_Then the stranger's eyes turned all funny and he tried to kiss her. Miss Millie fought against him. "Stop! Leave me alone! Get away from me!" She struggled and her voice rose in panic. The man grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, suddenly becoming enraged. He grabbed at her clothes and her blouse rippped at the sleeve._

_Little Joe reacted by instinct, his six-year-old mind intent only on defending Miss Millie and stopping the mean man from hurting her. Sneaking out of the bedroom, he grabbed the poker iron next to the fireplace and swung it hard, striking the man in the back of the calf._

_He let out a howl and loosened his grip. Miss Millie raked her nails down the side of his neck and wrenched free of his hold. The man hollered again and staggered back, gripping the side of his neck near his collarbone. It was then he noticed Little Joe standing in the room. _

_Little Joe swung the poker iron again, but he wasn't quick enough. The man grabbed his wrist, squeezing it hard, practically crushing it before yanking the poker from his grasp. He screamed aloud in pain. He tried to kick him with his bare feet, but they were ineffective and only made the man angrier. _

_Swinging his hand wide, the intruder struck him full force across his face, knocking him clear across the room and into the legs of a wooden chair. He lay stunned, the wind knocked from him, unable to move, or even cry out._

_"Little Joe!" He heard Miss Millie scream. He saw her reaching out for him but the man grabbed her again and punched her in the jaw. She fell to the floor, her nose and mouth bleeding._

_The man snatched him up off the floor by the back of the oversized shirt. He fought with all his might and when that didn't work he twisted around sank his teeth into the man's hand. The man yelped and dropped him. Momentarily free, he tried to flee, but was grabbed by the roots of his hair and yanked back, and then shaken like a rag doll, making his head snap. _

_"Why you little bastard! I'll show you!" Before he could react, pain exploded in his stomach as the man drove his fist into the tender, unprotected flesh. Little Joe doubled over and was immediately sick, throwing up all over the man's boots. He couldn't catch his breath and his head spun dizzily._

_"My God! Stop!" Miss Millie screched. "He's just a little boy! You're going to kill him!"_

_"Shut up!" _

_He was pulled to his knees and held by the front on the shirt again. Terrified and in pain, he whimpered, feebly clutching the man's wrist as he was shaken again._

_Somewhere in the dark tunnel of pain, he was vaguely aware of Miss Millie staggering to her feet and picking up a knife off the kitchen counter. But the man saw her coming and dropped him. The blade knicked his forearm as he deflected the blow. _

_He grabbed her and twisted the knife out of her hand. Miss Millie fought him. Then her eyes suddenly widened in shock and she took a step back and a moment later fell to the floor a few feet from where Little Joe was huddled and sobbing._

_The man staggered backwards as if in a daze, the bloody knife dropping out of his hand and clattering to the floor._

_Little Joe stared wide-eyed at Miss Millie. Blood was quickly staining the front of her dress and seeping onto to floor. His eyes became fixed on Miss Millie's face. Her eyes remained open, staring at him in shock. Then he heard a terrible gurgling sound as she gasped for breath. Frothy, red liquid oozed out of her mouth as she reached out to him. He backed away in shock, tears steaming down his face. _

_Blood...there was so much blood, covering her face, spreading over her chest and pooling on the floor while all the while her eyes continued to stare at him frightened, pleading and in pain before suddenly they dimmed and froze into glassy stillness. _

_He gripped his injured arm, breath coming in hysterical pants. His mind, numb in fear, barely registered the presence of another bursting into the room until a shocked voice exclaimed. "My God! What have you done?" _

_There was movement and arguing. "Shut up! You really think she was going to keep her mouth shut now that she saw us?" _

_Little Joe's tore his gaze from Miss Millie's and he saw the man intensely staring at him. He cowered back up against one of the kitchen chairs. There was more arguing, as the other man seemed to notice him for the first time. He said something, but Joe didn't hear, his wide eyes tunnel focused on the killer now moving towards him. He skirted further back, underneath the table, protectively cradling his injured wrist to his chest, crying out. "Papa! Adam!" _

_The man grabbed one of the wooden kitchen chairs and threw it aside._

_"What are you doing?" The other demanded._

_"The kid! He saw everything!" The killer reached for him, but Joe managed to evade his grasp, whimpering as the movement jarred his swelling wrist and the many bruises over his body._

_"You can't. He's just a child!" The second man tried to stop the first and was roughly pushed aside and fell backwards over a piece of furniture._

_"Come here! Come here, you brat!" The man bellowed and lunged at him again. He kicked out with his bare feet as hard as he could and scooted further backward. He heard a grunt as his heel connected with flesh, then cried out as he felt a strong hand clamp down around his bare ankle. He was being dragged out from under the table. Terrified, Little Joe clung to a chair leg, still kicking furiously with his other foot all the while calling out to his papa, to Adam._

_There was more struggling as the other man regained his footing tried to stop him but was knock the off balance. But the movement was enough for Little Joe to break free from the tight hold and scoot out from underneath the table. He crawled behind an end table as the two men scuffled, before the shorter man was knocked down again._

_In a rage, the killer lifted the entire kitchen table up, flipping it over onto its side. The chairs soon followed with a loud crashimg sound, one shattering a lamp sitting on a side table just above Little Joe's head. Glass rained down on top of him and part of the chair caught Little Joe in the back as if bounced off the wall._

_The man then picked up the bloody knife from the floor and started to plow through the mess in his direction when a sudden noise caught his attention. He spun around and saw the back door swung wide open, the door knob knocking against the wall. He turned and quickly headed outside._

_Shards of glass cut into Little Joe's knees and his right palm as he tried to crawl out from beneath the broken chair, his left wrist curled uselessly up agaisnt his middle. He cried out when a hand suddenly clamped down over his mouth and he was hauled bodily up and pressed against a firm back. Terrified tears streamed from his eyes as he futiley struggled against the man holding him tight and carrying him back into the kitchen._

_From somewhere a loud clap of thunder shook the house and his senses suddenly became tunneled, totally focused in on his fear. A strong hand pressed firmly over his mouth while an arm held him tightly against the man's chest. He could smell the heavy pungeance of musky cologne mixed with sweat but it was what Little Joe saw through the kitchen window that sent terror down his young body. Miss Millie's killer was striding back across the yard, towards the house, the knife welded ominously in his hand._

_He whimpered in abject terror against fingers still pressed tightly over his mouth,_

_Then before he knew what was happening, he was being shoved into a cabinet, held in place by a forcefully hand pressed against his chest. A face appeared inches from his own, distorted and flushed. "Not a word, boy, not a sound! Not to anyone, you hear, or you'll end up dead just like her."_

_The cabinet door was slammed shut, throwing him into darkness._

_Footsteps pounded back inside, loud and thunderous. From inside his hiding place, Little Joe sat, his knees drawn up against his chest, eyes dilated as he heard the angry voice boom. "The brat's got to be here somewhere!"_

_"Forget about the boy! We need to get out of here!"_

_"Not until I find him!" Through a thin slat in the cabinet Little Joe saw the movement of legs, heard more scuffling."Don't just stand there, you snivelling weasel! Help me search, or so help me god I'll kill you too!"_

_"I tell you he's not here. I've already checked. H-He must have run out back, down the gully maybe."_

_More crashing and cursing could be heard...so loud it echoed in the confines of the small space he hide in. It sounded like the man was tearing the place apart. Little Joe shrank further back trying not to make a sound despite his fear and the pain both in his wrist and from the bruises over his body. The man's voiced boomed again, cursing and spewing forth all kinds of horrible, vile, monterous things he was going to do to him when he found him._

_Something smashed loudly up against his hiding place, making him jump. His terror intensified even more when a dark pair of long legs suddenly appeared in his line of vision between the slats. His whole body shook violently as the man's face appeared next, crouching down in front of Miss Millie, the bloody knife still welded in his hand._

_He wanted to call out then, shout at the top of his lungs for Papa, for Adam, for Hoss to come to help him, but his terror was too great, freezing his voice in mid cry. Through the slat, Miss Millie's bloody and beaten face stared sightlessly back as if imploring him to keep silent. "Not a word, not a sound," the voice echoed in his head. "Or you'll end up dead just like her!"_

Outside another clap of thunder shook the entire house. Little Joe tossed in bed, his eyes beneath the closed lids moving erratically as his nightmare became more distorted and escalated to what he feared the most...

_ From his hiding place, through the slat, he saw the killer's head turn slowly and looked straight at him. His eyes were piercing and cold. Little Joe shivered and pressed his back further into the tiny corner, his entire body quacking, and his face drained completely of color. His eyes dilated in abject terror as the man's mouth twisted into a sadisistic smile._

_A loud clap of thunder exploded just as a hand reached out..._

Little Joe bolted up with a scream as the entire house shook. He screamed and screamed and kept on screaming. But downstairs nobody heard him because his screams were all in his head, locked in by his fear, his terror and the dead eyes of Miss Millie staring back.

Still caught up in the threos his nightmare, the six year scrambled and clawed away from his would be attacker, his arms flailing about in a sheer panic. Inadvertently his arm strike the oil lamp sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. It had been turned down low, just enough, to allow a small flame to light the room. The lamp tipped over and crashed to the floor, shattering. Lamp oil spread quickly across the braided rug and lit by the low flame, it spurred to life.

...

Downstairs Hop Sing had just come in with a tray of coffee and some cookies. The clap of thunder shook the whole house and the Chinese man muttered under his breath. He poured a cup of coffee for the senior Cartwright and was just handing Ben the cup when they heard the sound of shattering glass. The next instant all three smelled smoke.

Adam, who was closest to the stairs, bounded up them two at a time. By the time he reached Little Joe's room, the flames had already spread across the oil soaked rug and started to catch the comforter on fire. Through the smoke he could just make out his little brother cowering in the bed, his hand over his head. "Joe!" Without thought for his own safety, Adam dove into the room. Through the fanning flames, he snatched the distraught child from the bed just as the fire licked up, catching his forearm.

Ben had followed him into the room and immediately grabbed the quilt off the bed and threw it over the flames, shouting for Hop Sing, as he tried stamp the fire out with his foot.

Adam quickly removed Little Joe from the room and brought him downstairs. Hop Sing appeared a second later with a bucket of soapy water from the kitchen and doused the flames that started to lick up the wall. Between the two of them, in a matter of minutes, they had the fire out.

Downstairs, still caught up in the terror of his nightmare, Little Joe struggled and fought against Adam, coughing and crying at the same time. In his young mind he only saw the killer trying to grab him. "Little Joe! Little Joe! It's okay, buddy. You're okay." The deep soothing sound of his brother's voice finally snapped Joe out of his terror. He took one look at Adam and promptly collapsed into his embrace, sobbing and desperately clinging to his neck. Adam just held him.

As soon as the fire was smothered out, Ben hurried back downstairs and found Little Joe on Adam's lap. Anxiously he reached out and touched Joe's hair, his face. "Little Joe? Little Joe? Are you hurt son? Tell Papa. Tell Papa." But Little Joe couldn't tell him through his sobs.

Adam rubbed his brother's back. "I think he's okay, Pa," he said. "Just scared mostly."

"Thank God!" Relieved, Ben gripped his older son by the back of the neck, squeezing tightly. "Thank you, Adam. Thank you!" Adam cleared his throat and coughed several times, prompting Ben's concern for his eldest. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Pa. Just caught a little of the smoke."

Ben then looked down at Adam's forearm. "You're hurt!"

"It nothing, just a little cinge."

Hoss then burst into the room. "Pa!" He instantly saw his family huddled together. He raced over to them, having just dashed from the barn when he had smelled smoke and then saw flames coming from the upstairs window of Joe's room. He was out of breath with a half spilled bucket of water gripped tightly in his hand.

"We're oaky." Ben reassured his middle son. "The fire's out."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, but I think the storm scared your little brother and he must have accidentally knocked over the lamp I had left lit near the bed. Your brother's quick action saved Joe."

Little Joe was still coughing. Ben offered him some water. "Here, son. Try to drink a little for Papa."

Hop Sing came downstairs carrying the sodden, charred quilt. "Wittle Joe, okay?"

"I think so, Hop Sing. He just inhaled some smoke, but Adam has a burn on his arm."

"I get sauve for Mista Adam, then clean up room. Room a mess. Wittle Joe not be able to sleep there tonight."

"That's all right. He'll sleep with me." Ben stroked Little Joe's curls, his chocolate eyes darkening in concern as he once again saw the lingering fear in the green orbs. The child reached out to his father and Ben gladly took him in his embrace. The little boy buried his head deeply in his father's chest, wrapping his thin arms about Ben's neck. "It's okay, son. Everything's okay now. Papa's here," Ben reassured the trembling child. Joe had always been frightened by large thunderstorms, but somehow, Ben intuitively knew it had been something more that had awakened the boy than just the storm.

Hoss handed his father a small quilt and Ben wrapped it around Little Joe while Hop Sing returned with a basin of water, sauve and some bandage strips for Adam's burn. "Not too bad, Mista Adam. Skin vely red but no blistar." The burn was cleaned and dressed. Adam thanked the little oriental man, then he and Hoss went upstairs to help clean up the mess in Joe's room, sensing Little Joe's need to be with their father.

Ben cuddled the boy, resting his chin on the top of the soft curls. For a while he just held his boy, thankful he had not been injured. Finally he asked. "Little Joe, was it the storm that frightened you...or something else?"

The child's body visibly trembled. The nightmare of the men and Miss Millie's dead eyes staring at him was still too fresh in the his young mind. He wanted to tell his papa everything, to cry out, but he couldn't, he was too afraid, too scared, remembering the man's threats. With his head still buried in his father's chest, Little Joe shook his head.

Ben embraced the child, his own heart aching with sadness as Joe's fear continued to trap him in silence.

**TBC...**

**A/N: okay...so a little more of the plot revealed, lol. As always, reviews are appreciated. Thanks! BSG**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

By morning the storm had passed, leaving behind a patchy blue sky. After breakfast, Adam sought out Hank and found him on the tack room working on a number of odd projects that had been piling up. He inquired about the men and learned most of the extra hands had already been sent out to help check on the herd. After the storm many would most likely to be scattered and would take time to round up.

Since the corrals were too muddy to break any horses, Colby and another hand named Rafe, had been left behind and assigned to some odd jobs around the yard, including repairing the bunkhouse roof where the storm had loosened a number of shingles and caused it to leak.

Before leaving for Virginia City, Adam, told Hank to stick close to the yard and keep an eye on the house. Hank nodded in understanding.

In town Adam tracked Sheriff Coffee down at the hotel having a late breakfast. He joined the veteran lawman. The hostess brought him a cup of coffee. Without much preamble, Adam related the events that had recently transpired, starting with the encounter with two disgruntled hands to the accidental fire.

Sheriff Coffee listened and then frowned. "Is Little Joe okay?"

"More scared than hurt."

"Is he talking yet?"

Adam shook his head. "He's still having a lot of nightmares. We're pretty sure that's how the fire got started. Little Joe knocked over the lamp next to the bed." Before coming over to see Roy, Adam had stopped by Dr. Martin's, who promised to swing by the Ponderosa later and check on Little Joe. He also insisted on checking the burn on Adam's forearm while he was there, even though Adam insisted it was fine.

After listening to Adam's story, the sheriff spent several minutes asking more questions about two disgruntled hands and Adam explained how he had fired them a few weeks back and how Colvarre had tried to challenge him.

Roy disgusted this information thoughtfully. He then turned his line of questioning to anyone else new that had shown up on the ranch and Adam admitted they had recently hired on the three new men, the two wranglers, and the bronc buster, Colby. Immediately, the lawman's eyebrow rose and for the next several minutes Adam was bombarded with more questions.

Though the presence of three newly hired hands did indeed seem suspicious in the timeframe of things, truth be told, their appearance was neither that odd or unusual, Adam pointed out, for the Cartwrights _had _been actively looking for help. Also it wasn't unusual for them to hire on strangers, especially wranglers that tended to come and go with the season. However, Adam told the sheriff as much as he knew about and then added, Burke and Trent, since being hired, had been kept busy with the new herd and had little contact with the main house.

"What about this other fella? This bronc buster, Flint? What's his story?" Roy asked.

Colby had been able to give references to several well-known spreads up in Northern and Central California. His latest job, Adam told him, remembering the conversation he had with Colby, had been at Tom Ramsey's ranch, the Double Valley. In addition, Colby had more than proven his expertise as a bronc buster. Adam then went on to explain how the new hand had even come to his aid when Colvarre and his partner had shown up, scarring Little Joe half to death.

There was also the fact Little Joe had shown no fear of him, not like the terror that had overwhelmed the six year old in the general store. Adam admitted that Little Joe hadn't met the two new wranglers yet as Ben had kept the boy close to house, only interacting with Hank, Charlie and a couple of the regular hands.

Roy took in all this information and digested it thoughtfully, and then advised Adam to remain vigilant nonetheless.

"Have you come up with anything new?" Adam then asked.

Roy laced his fingers together on the table. "Nothing solid per say, but I did talk to some of ladies from the Sunday Social. One, Porter Morgan, said the Sunday before Miss Richards was murdered, she seemed a bit off."

"How do you mean?"

The lawman shrugged. "All she said was Miss Richards seemed quieter than normal, distracted. On Sundays, she and some of the church ladies visit and bring baskets to the needy, but according to Porter Morgan, she went home a little early, thought maybe she was feeling a bit poorly. I still have a few more of Miss Richards' friends to talk to."

The sheriff finished his coffee and then told Adam he would follow up on the whereabouts of Colvarre and his partner Durham, and, just as a precaution, would check out the stories of the three newly hired hands.

Adam shook the lawman's hand, thanking him.

...

Little did the sheriff or Adam know but they were being watched from a table across the room. One of the men frowned nervously, while the other, intent on keeping the conversation flowing with the two other occupants at their table, threw the first a warning look. The sheriff rose and paid his bill, and then he and Adam left the restaurant, passing by the two men who deliberately kept their faces averted.

€#€#€#

Ben let Little Joe sleep in. Between the mess caused by the fire and the distraught state of the child, it was well after two in the morning before Little Joe and the rest of the family had finally gotten back to sleep. When Little Joe finally did wake up, he came downstairs, stuffed animal in hand, and sleepily crawled up onto Ben's lap. Ben set aside his paperwork and spent time with his son, trying his best to make Joe feel secure.

A little later there was a knock on the door. Hop Sing hurried out of the kitchen to answer it. In the threshold stood a man in an army uniform who stated his name was a Sergeant Murphy. The sergeant, a pleasant looking young man nervously apologized for the intrusion when Ben came around from behind his desk frowning, "Where's Captain Morrison?"

The sergeant removed his hat. "He sent his apologies, sir. Captain Morrison had a bit of a mishap and injured his knee. He sent me along instead with orders to check on the condition and progress of the string of horses."

Ben nodded. With Adam still in town though, it meant Ben would need to go escort the Sergeant down to the corrals. He looked at Little Joe, reluctant to leave him.

"You go, Mista Cartwright," the Chinese cook interjected. "Hop Sing get boy dressed, fix something to eat. You no worry."

Ben nodded and left with the Sergeant, taking Hank down with him to help with the horses.

Once Joe was dressed and fed, Hop Sing tried to encourage the boy to go outside in the fresh air. "Storm pass, sun out, nice day to be outside."

Little Joe glanced apprehensively at the back door, and shook his head, his thoughts once more on the man in the store and his dream. He felt afraid.

The little oriental cook seemed to read his thoughts. In Cantonese, Hop Sing asked. "You afraid of the bad man?" Little Joe nodded, understanding exactly what the cook asked. In English he said. "Papa and brothers and Hop Sing all here, keep safe. No worry." But Joe still wouldn't budge. The cook's tone took on a slightly exasperated tone, hating to see the normally active child looking so sullen and withdrawn. "You come with Hop Sing. We go outside get eggs, make cake for dessert." Without waiting for Little Joe to answer, the cook took a basket off the counter and steered Little Joe outside to the hen house located round the back, off from the kitchen. As they collected the eggs, Hop Sing did his best not to get irritated when Little Joe dropped three.

Neither took notice to fact the back kitchen door was slightly ajar when they returned. They had just stepped back inside the kitchen when Hop Sing, basket in hand, was suddenly grabbed, swung around and roughly slammed into the wall. His forehead struck the hard surface and he crumpled to the floor.

Little Joe looked up to see a man standing inside the kitchen. "We met again, kid."

Eyes wide as saucers, Little Joe backed away. The man reached out to grab him but Little Joe evaded his grasp and ran back outside. He ran across the yard, glancing back in a panic and collided head first into something solid. Arms reached up and grabbed him. Little Joe fought wildly, panic and fear once more taking control, fighting against the hands that restrained him.

Just then Ben came back from the corrals and saw Joe struggling to free himself from the hands gripping his forearms. "Colby! What the devil is going on?" Joe broke free and dashed to his father's side. A thunderous look crossed the senior Cartwright's face.

"I'm not sure Mr. Cartwright," the bronc buster explained, seeming just as baffled. "I was just coming from the barn with some more nails to repair the shingles when the little fella ran into me."

Hop Sing staggered from the house. "Mista Cartwright! Mista Cartwright!"

Ben grabbed the cook and tried to steady him. "Hop Sing! What happened?"

"Someone push Hop Sing from behind. Knock Hop Sing out," the little oriental man said as Ben helped him to sit down. The cook held his head. "Come to, Wittle Joe not there."

"Where?" Ben demanded.

"In kitchen," Hop Sing replied. Ben went to take off and investigate, but Joe flung himself at his father and clung to his legs and wouldn't let go.

Seeing the boy's distress, Colby intervened. "I'll go check it out, Mr. Cartwright. You stay with your son." The bronc buster dashed off, gun in hand, before Ben could say anything.

The cook was sputtering angrily in Cantonese, more about the mess made all down the front of his shirt and to his kitchen from the basket of cracked eggs than the knot on his head. He pushed Ben away. "Hop Sing fine! You take care Wittle Joe." The cook retreated to the back of the bath house where there was a barrel of rain water set aside for washing, still sputtering in his native tongue.

Ben knelt down to Joe still clinging to him. "Joseph, who was it? Who pushed Hop Sing?" Little Joe opened his mouth, tried to talk but no words came out. "Was it the man who hurt you?" Little Joe's lower lip quivered. He opened his mouth, tried to explain, but again his fear kept his voice silent. Instead he pointed to house and then barn, the barn where Colby had said he'd just come from. Ben frowned. "Do you mean Colby, son?" He asked.

Joe shook his head vigorously again trying to make his Pa understand, but his Pa didn't understand! Frustrated and scared, he simply buried his face against his father's chest. Ben soothed the distraught boy. "It's okay, Little Joe. It's okay."

The other hand Rafe showed up, looking a more than a bit confused, apparently unaware of anything amiss having been around the other side of the barn. Hank was still down at the corrals.

Several minutes passed and Colby hadn't returned. Ben began to worry. "Joseph, wait here." But Joe continued to cling to his father, still afraid. Just then Colby returned. He looked a bit stunned and was massaging his jaw with one hand. "Colby? What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cartwright. I tried to stop him, but he caught me with a sucker punch."

"Who? Who was it?"

"It was one of the men that came to the ranch the other day, the one Adam had a confrontation with."

"Colvarre?"

Colby nodded. "I'm afraid he's long gone. I could go after him, sir."

Ben shook his head. "No. Ride into Virginia City, get Adam. He rode out this morning to talk to Sheriff Coffee. Tell him to bring the sheriff out."

"Sure, Mr. Cartwright. I'll leave right away. You sure the little fella is okay though?"

Ben nodded. "Yes. Just shaken."

€#€#€#€

Colby actually ran into Adam on the road coming back. He quickly explained what happened. Adam headed back to the ranch anxious to check on Joe and his father while he sent Colby on into Virginia City to find the sheriff.

Two hours later Sheriff Coffee stood in the family room with Ben and Adam and the bronc buster. Little Joe was upstairs asleep and Hoss, who had just gotten home from school was outside doing his chores. "You sure it was Colvarre?"

The bronc buster nodded. "I nearly had him, but Colvarre sucker punched me."

"We may still be able to pick up his trail," Roy said.

"I'm coming with you," Adam stated.

Ben didn't try to stop him. Outside, the sheriff and Adam started to mount up. The bronc buster followed.

"Sheriff, mind if I go too?" Colby asked. "I mean, I kinda feel responsible, Mr. Cartwright, for letting that man get away in the first place." He then rubbed his bruised jaw. "Besides, I feel it's a bit personal now." Adam glanced at Roy waiting for his approval. The lawman hesitated briefly but then nodded.

"Be careful, Adam," Ben advised his son. Adam met his father's eyes and nodded.

The trio of riders managed to follow Colvarre's trail for the better part of an hour until they lost it in hard pack soil and rock. From here, Colvarre could have easily slipped into one of several canyons that branched out. They decided to split up briefly, agreeing to meet back in a half hour. The sheriff went in one direction, Adam and Colby in another.

Adam took the lead, riding into a winding canyon. After about ten minutes, Adam had to stop and dismount, feeling like his cinch had loosened. Colby did the same, feeling the need to stretch his legs a bit and take care of some "necessary" business. The bronc buster disappeared into the bushes a few minutes and Adam took the opportunity to look around. It was then he noticed some of the scrub brush nearby looked odd. Leaving the horses for a moment, he walked over to get a better look. On closer inspection, his suspicions were confirmed. Several of the branches had been snapped, recently by the looks, as if something large had passed through, like maybe horse, or admittedly a stray steer or even a deer. The ground was too hard to pick up any discernable imprints as to what, but it drew Adam's curiosity none the less and he was about venture a little further into the brush when the report of gunfire stopped him in his tracks. Instinctively he ducked down. At first he couldn't tell its direction as the noise echoed off the canyon walls. Keeping low, he headed back towards the horses.

A second later he saw Colby emerging from the bushes coming to an abrupt halt when he saw Adam crouched, his pistol poised. The bronc buster looked a bit sheepish. "Uh. Sorry, that was me."

"What the hell happened?"

The bronc buster appeared a bit embarrassed. "It was a rattler. I, uh, sorta spooked it when I was, uh, taking a piss."

Adam rolled his eyes irritably and holstered his gun. He then returned to the bushes with the broken branches. Colby curiously followed. After showing him what he'd been looking at, Colby agreed that something had indeed passed through but it was hard to tell if it was a horse and rider or something else. Cautiously the two men ventured into the brush, following the trail of more broken branches a bit further until it opened up onto a wash that forked on up ahead in two different directions.

The hot sun was now high in the sky. "Should we split up? Continue?" Colby asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Adam reluctantly shook his head, feeling his own sweat rolling down his neck. "No. We better meet back up with the Sheriff. Besides, even if we are on the right trail, the element of surprise was lost with that gunfire."

"I'm real sorry, Mr. Cartwright. Guess I screwed up." He sounded sincere.

"Don't worry about it. If Colvarre got this far, we would be hard pressed to find him in this canyon anyway. There are too many directions he could have taken."

They reluctantly returned to the horses and met up with the sheriff a little later. Having heard the distant echo of gunfire, Roy had already headed back and was waiting for them to return. Adam explained what happened and his findings. Roy agreed that there was little else they could do and decided to give up the search for now and head back. Colvarre, he was sure, would pop up again, more likely back in Virginia City, in one of the saloons probably, knowing the man's taste for whiskey and women.

#€#€#€

That night Ben posted a few more hands around the house.

Little Joe fell asleep in Hoss' bed after Hoss had read him several stories, and Hoss had just told his father to leave him there, that he'd look after Joe. Ben sensed Hoss' need to be close to his brother and agreed.

Downstairs Ben and Adam talked quietly. Ben had tried to get more information out of Little Joe about the disgruntled hand, but the child's continued muteness, combined with his fear made it difficult and in the end, Ben had been forced to drop the matter once again.

€#€#€#€

Saturday came. Both Adam and Hoss decided to go ahead with their plans to take Little Joe fishing, noticing the increasing sullenness and withdrawal in their little brother. It took a fair amount of convincing to get their father to agree to let Little Joe go. "You can't keep Joe locked up inside the house all day, Pa. It isn't healthy, for him," Adam said.

"Yeah, Pa, and we done promised the little guy we take him fishin' once before already and don't want to disappoint him again."

Ben finally relented, deep down knowing they were right. "But don't let your brother out of your sight for a second!"

It had taken them a little bit more of an effort to convince Little Joe who looked apprehensively at both his brothers, but in the end Hoss had talked him into it. They left mid-morning. Little Joe rode up in front of Adam on Ranger and when Adam handed Little Joe the reins, he was happy to see a little smile appear on Joe's face. He ruffled the child's hair affectionately. Hoss rode next to them, smiling.

They reached Hoss' favorite fishing spot and for the next few hours the three Cartwright boys happily enjoyed each other's company. Little Joe gradually relaxed and became more like his natural self, enjoying the fresh air, the sun and spending time with his brothers. He was thrilled with the new pole Hoss had made for him, even if it was a little awkward to hold it with his right hand. He was allowed to have the sling off, but his left wrist was still wrapped.

Later, they all sat down under a shade tree and devoured the scrumptious picnic lunch Hop Sing had prepared, which consisted of fried chicken, biscuits with honey, jarred peaches and even some cake. Afterwards Adam propped his back lazily up against a tree contently watching Little Joe play while Hoss sat and tried to untangle the line on Joe's fishing pole, not for the first time that day.

Seeing Hoss struggling, Adam couldn't help but tease him a little over his lack of fish caught. "Dang gummit, Adam. The only reason I didn't catch anythin' is I spent half my time untanglin' Little Joe's line and the other half trying to keep him from scaring all the fish away!"

"Well, that is true, although I think our little brother wasn't too upset he didn't catch anything."

Hoss looked over to where the little boy was happily exploring the edge of the pond with a stick. "Naw, it sure don't. Little guy sure looks happy, don't he? Only thing better would be ta hear him talkin' again." Adam agreed, resting his head up against the tree.

Little Joe ran back up the bank and practically flung himself on top of Adam's stomach, making him grunt. He excitedly tugged on Adam's hand. "What is it, little buddy?" Joe pointed down to the pond, tugging again. "Something you want me to see?" Adam asked and Joe nodded vigorously. Though he'd much prefer to stay comfortably seated and lazily digest his lunch under the shade tree, it was clear Joe was having nothing to do with it. Adam reluctantly got up. "Coming, Hoss?"

"In a bit. Just wanna get me another piece of cake first."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Hoss you ate more than half the contents in the basket as it is."

"Don't matter. There's always room for one more piece of Hop Sing's cake."

Joe tugged impatiently on Adam's hand again. "Alright, Little Joe. I'm coming. I'm coming." He was led down to the edge of the pond where Little Joe pointed. At first Adam didn't see anything that would warrant such enthusiasm, then he spied it, the biggest bullfrog he'd ever seen, so big it was nearly the size of a small Tom Cat, hiding among the reeds.

Little Joe tugged on Adam's sleeve again, pointing to the amphibian, then to Adam and himself and started to walk into the water. Adam grabbed him, easily reading the child's intentions. "No way, little buddy. There's no way Pa's going to let you bring that monster home." Little Joe's mouth pulled down stubbornly and he was just about to protest further when his eyes suddenly widened into saucers looking over Adam's shoulder.

From his crouched position, Adam had little time to react. He managed only to pivot half way around before he felt the impact of something solid hit him on the side of his head. Pain exploded and he felt himself pitching face forward into the water before blackness engulfed him.

Just up the hill, Hoss had finished his cake and feeling a bit uncomfortable had slipped away privately into the bushes to relieve himself. He was just coming back when, through the obscurity of the trees, saw Little Joe being bodily lifted and carried away, the man, with his back now to him, disappearing into the bushes.

Hoss rushed down the bank calling out to his brothers. "Little Joe! Adam!" He reached the bank and was about to dash off after Little Joe when he saw Adam lying face down, motionless, in the water. "Adam!"

TBC...

**A/N: sorry for the bit of a wait on this last chap and the little cliffy I left you with... Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews appreciated.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Hoss ran into the water, grabbed the still form of his brother by the back of the shirt and rolled him over face up just as he heard the sound of hooves racing away. He looked down at Adam who was completely limp, motionless. Fear gripped the middle Cartwright's chest as he shouted. "Adam! Adam!"

He dragged Adam out of the water and up the bank, tripping on the entanglement of reeds nearby, his boots slipping in the mud. Adam was dead weight in his arms, but Hoss was strong and soon had him up on the bank and on his back. He couldn't keep the panic from his voice as he slapped Adam's face. "Adam! Adam! Wake up!"

His fear intensified when he realized Adam wasn't breathing!

Instinctively he pressed on Adam's rib cage, then rolled him onto his side and pounded on his back something he'd done a couple times before to calves that had been born but not breathing. It was a trick he learnt from some of the older cowhands. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he begged and pleaded. "Breath, dag gummit, breath! _Please_, Adam!"

Hoss rolled him onto his back again and was just about to push on his chest once more when suddenly Adam's back arched up and he started vomiting violently, spewing up large mouthfuls of water. Hoss quickly rolled him onto his side, supporting him across his knees as he continued to heave, then at last, drew in a huge gasp of air. Hoss continued to rub his back, supporting him. "That's it, Adam breath, big brother! Breath!"

Adam coughed, gagged and drew in more ragged breaths while Hoss held him tight. Adam was breathing, but was still out for the count. Hoss reached down and felt a large lump on the back of Adam's head. Afriad to leave him and afriad for Little Joe, Hoss knew he needed help and fast! He grabbed the gun out of Adam's holster and fired off three shots in the air in rapid succession, hoping beyond hope someone would hear.

He cradled Adam on his lap and tried desperately to rouse him again, slapping him on the face and practically screaming in his ear, "Adam! Ya gotta wake up."

Adam moaned loudly as he started to come to. He heard his name being called, over and over again in a desperate plea. His eyes fluttered opened, blinking rapidly. The first thing he saw was the cherub, anxious, tear-stained face of his younger brother hovering over him. "Hoss?" he rasped, not sure why he was laying on the grass, his head resting in his brother's lap, but worse yet, why head was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode, or why his chest felt like it was suddenly on fire.

He groaned and then realized Hoss was speaking rapidly. At first he couldn't comprehend anything he was saying, the words frantic and stumbling over themselves. Something about Little Joe, about needing to get help and not to move. Adam's head began to clear and his memory returned sluggishly "Joe?" He struggled to sit up and felt Hoss' strong arms under his armpits, supporting him. Adam hissed and brought his hand to the back of his head, trying to keep the sudden wave of pain and dizziness from toppling him back over into oblivion. The vision of Little Joe's eyes widening in fear suddenly jolted Adam back into reality. "Joe? Where's Little Joe?"

"Someone done took him, Adam!"

Adam twisted around and grabbed Hoss by the flaps of his vest. "What?"

"Someone grabbed Joe, Adam!" Hoss voice cracked with a sob. "I couldn't tell who. He was too far away and I didn't get a good look at him through the bushes. I was about to go after him when I saw ya face down in the water. I thought you were dead," the thirteen year old cried.

Adam's grip on Hoss' vest tightened, his pale face paling a shade more than it already was. "Which way did they go, Hoss?"

"South, I think, from the sound of the horse's hooves."

"Help me up." Adam tried to stand but swayed and started coughing again.

Hoss put a restraining arm on him. "Ya done near drowned on me brother and got a knot the size of a robin's egg on the back of your head. Ya ain't going anywhere."

"I said help me up and then fetch the horses!" Adam snapped back. He struggled to his feet. His head spun.

Knowing there was no arguing with him, Hoss helped him up the bank and left him leaning against a tree while he raced to retrieve the horses. Adam's face was nearly white as a sheet by the time Hoss got back.

With help Adam managed to mount his horse. He grabbed the reins. "Hoss, ride back to the house as fast as you can and get Pa!"

Hoss gaped. "Adam, I can't leave ya! You're hurt!"

"I don't have time to argue with you. Just get going! I'm going after Joe!" Hoss hesitated, afraid. "Go, Hoss, please! There's no time to waste. Get Pa and some men!"

Hoss nodded and climbed aboard his own mount, quickly taking off.

Adam spurred Ranger south, his heart racing.

_Oh, God let me find him! Let me just find him!_

€#€#€#€

Hoss had never ridden so fast or so hard. When he reached the house he practically leapt from his horse and burst through the door, shouting. "Pa! Pa!"

Ben came downstairs, alerted by the frantic calls of his middle son. "Hoss, what is it? What's the matter?"

Hoss ran over to his father, grabbed him by the forearms. "Pa, ya gotta come quick! Joe's gone and Adam, he's hurt and went after him by hisself. Please, Pa, we need ta hurry."

Ben cupped his son's face in the palm of one hand. "Hoss, slow down. Tell me what happened."

The boy was nearly panting in his anxiety and fear. "Someone took Little Joe, Pa, and hit Adam over the head." He quickly explained how he'd found Adam face down in the pond, nearly drowned and how he'd managed to get Adam breathing again. But Adam was hurt from the hit to the back his head yet insisted on going after Joe, sending him home to fetch help. "Please, Pa! I'm scared for Little Joe and Adam."

The gravity of the situation hit Ben full force. He strapped on his gun, grabbed his coat and hat. "Stay here, Hoss."

Outside Ben Cartwright, full of worry and rage, quickly gathered his men.

€#€#€#€

Little Joe was dumped rather unceremoniously on the hard dirt floor. He lay there in a semi conscious heap in the dark until a lantern was lit causing him to squint from the sudden glare. The face that loomed over him blurred in and out of focus.

When he had been grabbed, Joe's initial shock had been quickly replaced with desperation and panic. His natural instinct was to fight back and he kicked out and squirmed and punched with his puny fists against his abductor. He fought when his assailant tried to throw him bodily up onto the saddle. When the man became frustrated by the boy's wild struggles, he had turned Little Joe around and slapped him hard across the face. The shock and sudden stinging pain left Little Joe dazed and once again he was grabbed and thrown unceremoniously across the front of a saddle and then held down by the back of a strong hand as his abductor quickly mounted. The rough ride that followed jostled the scared and abused boy about until it became too much to bear and Little Joe had passed out.

Now, as his awareness returned to hands grabbing him and roughly tying his wrists together, Little Joe let out a whimper of pain. Large, frightened eyes welled in tears as his legs were then grabbed and also bound tightly together.

His kidnapper then sat back on his hunches, his mouth curling into a slight smile before reaching out and grabbed the boy's chin. "Sorry, kid. Nothing personal. Just business."

Frightened and hurting, Little Joe's could only stare back through terrified tears before jerking his head away and recoiling from the man's touch. He groaned, dizzy with pain and confusion as his head lulled to the side and he blacked out again.

€#€#€#

Adam led Ranger through a washout between two gently sloping hillsides. He had been searching for over an hour. His head pounded and the queasiness in his stomach increased, a combination, he was sure, resulting of from the hit on his skull along with the pond water he had swallowed. He forced the discomfort down though, his own guilt, anger and desperation driving him forward.

He spotted the single rider some distance ahead and off to the right. He urged his horse forward but was still too far away, and the sparse trees and rocks the rider wove through, prevented Adam from getting a full view of the man or any sign of Little Joe, although it was more than possible that the boy was riding up front and hidden from his sight.

The rider slipped behind a large outcropping of boulders. Adam followed cautiously. When he rounded the bend, though, there was no sign of him. His fear mounted, knowing it would difficult at best to pick up the rider's trail in the hard ground. Frantically he searched. Finally, he spotted the flank end of the chestnut colored horse partially concealed near some scrub bushes. There was no sign of the rider, however, or Little Joe.

Dismounting, he tethered his horse out of sight and drew his pistol. He cautiously advanced, his gait slightly wobbly. The sun was beating down on his hatless head and the glare made his eyes water and his head spin dizzily. He reached out and steadied his hand against the rocks to keep from falling over. Sweat poured down his face and he gritted his teeth as he tried to force the sensation away. Only his sheer stubbornness and determination to find his baby brother kept Adam upright.

The sudden ricochet of a bullet off the rocks just above him forced Adam to duck down low. A brief flash of movement caught his attention. As the figure darted back behind a rock, he recognized the shooter instantly. It was Colvarre!

A second shot forced Adam farther back. He returned fire but missed.

Staying low, Adam's rage boiled. He shouted. "Colvarre!"

"We meet again, Cartwright," came the amused twangy drawl.

"Let him go!"

"Don't know what your talking about, _boy_," he sneered back.

"My brother! Little Joe! Let him go!"

Colvarre laughed. "Is that what you think? Haven't got that little brat. Loose him?"

"I'm not here to play games. Where is he? What have you done to him?"

"You sound _worried_, Cartwright." He snickered. The sound of Colvarre's voice had shifted. He was on the move.

Adam glanced quickly around, trying to spot him. He growled back. "So help me god, if you've harmed him in anyway, I swear I'll hunt you down and put a bullet through your spineless heart!"

Colvarre taunted back. "I don't think it's that brother of yours you have to worry about right now." Another bullet ricocheted off the rock near Adam's hand.

Adam quickly withdrew back, the sudden movement making his head spin. Staying low, he backed up intending to make his way around the rock and get at Colvarre from the other side, when another bullet pinged off the rocks, this time from a different direction. Adam spun about and saw a second man hidden in the rocks. It was Colvarre's partner, Durham.

Adam tried to move back the way he came, but another bullet forced him back. The two men had Adam effectively trapped between them!

"Seems to me you got yourself caught between a rock and a hard place, now," Colvarre laughed his own pun.

Adam crouched low, trying to make his body as small of a target as possible between the small grouping of rocks he was forced into. He checked his gun and tried to remain calm but knew he was in a bad predicament. He looked around, trying to figure out another avenue of escape.

"What's the matter, Cartwright? Got nothing high and mighty to say now?" From the sound of Colvarre's voice, he was moving closer. "You are all the same, you know. Big rich guys, in rich houses. You think you can call all the shots, push us around."

Ignoring the taunts, Adam got down on his belly and dragged his body between the rocks. "I lost sight of him," Durham shouted.

Adam slithered along the ground, trying to conceal his body behind several small scrub trees when another bullet exploded close to his head, shattering a dried branch into pieces in front of face, and forcing him to plaster his face into the dirt.

"Just like shooting ducks, aye, Cartwright?"

...

Ben and several of his men heard the distant shots. "This way!" Ben spurred his horse forward in the direction of the sound.

...

Adam lifted his head up a few inches. "Keep him pinned down while I move around." Colvarre shouted. Through the scrub tree Adam saw Colvarre scale up and over a rock, trying to increase his vantage point. Knowing he had little time, Adam scrambled forward, then rolled his body into a small depression between the rocks and the scrub trees.

"I can't see him anymore!" Durham shouted.

Adam, wedged on his side, saw Colvarre scrambling up and over another rock. Sweat poured down his face and his vision swam briefly from the pounding in his head. Knowing he'd probably have only one chance at this before Colvarre spotted him, Adam stretched out his arm and steadied his gun, then waited. Colvarre's head pop up as he climbed up onto another rock.

The impact of the bullet striking Colvarre took him completely by surprise. The wrangler fell out of sight. Two bullets immediately shot into his hiding place, one grazing his left bicep. Hissing sharply against the pain, he heard the rapid report of return fire from somewhere out of his visual range.

Chaotic shouts followed, echoed, and then a deep familiar voice was bellowing his name. "Adam! Adam!"

Soon the equally familiar husky figure followed, scrambling over the rocks and with relief Adam dragged himself out of his hiding place. Strong hands grabbed him, helped him up. "Adam! Are you all right son?"

His head swam, but he nodded just the same. "Sure glad to see you, Pa," he replied weakly.

"Here. Let me help you." Ben, not giving a chance for Adam to protest, supported him with a steady hand on his arm as they made their way over the rocks to a shady spot. Making him sit, Ben cupped his face, and then ran his hands over Adam's body in a quick assessment, noticing the blood streaming down his left arm. Luckily it appeared to only be a flesh wound.

"Joseph? Where's Joseph?"

"I don't know, Pa. They had me pinned down before I could reach him, but I intend to find out." He tried to stand but was pushed back down.

"You'll stay right there! I'll handle this." Ben's tone was deadly and foreboding. He turned just as one of his men dragged the now subdued wrangler Durham over and pushed him down to the ground. "The other one's dead, Mr. Cartwright," he was told. The wounded wrangler gripped his left arm, which hung uselessly at his side as he struggled up onto his knees.

The patriarch stood, feet shoulder width apart, brows descended into a thick line, his faced chiseled in stone. Without preamble, he demanded. "Where's my son? Where is Joseph!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Ben voice was low, deep and deadly and matched the glacial hardness of his eyes. Few saw this side of Ben Cartwright, but it was a side those that did, never forgot. "You will tell me what I want to know or as God is my witness, I'll shoot you down right here and now." The fact that he hadn't bellowed, hadn't even raised his voice, but said the words slowly made them all the more deadly and the wrangler swallowed uneasily.

"I swear, Mr. Cartwright. I don't know anything about your boy."

Ben cocked his gun and was joined by Adam who refused to stay put.

Durham trembled unable to hold his gaze against the fierce, unwavering glitter of the patriarch's stare.

A shot rang out and the dirt inches from wrangler's thigh exploded in a cloud of dust. Durham nearly jumped out of his skin. Adam's eyes matched those of his father. "I suggest you tell my father what he wants to know, and now."

Durhamn trembled nervously. "You gotta believe me! I swear I don't know what you are talking about"

"You _took _my _son _and I want him _back_!"

The wrangler practically whimpered as Adam leveled his gun at his chest. "I'm telling the truth! I swear on my mother's grave, we didn't take your boy. We just wanted to get back at Adam for firing us."

"All the more reason I should just kill you here and now!" Adam retorted.

The man shuddered. "Please! I'm telling the truth!"

"If you didn't take my brother, what where you doing out here then?"

Durham suddenly looked very nervous, guilty. He hesitated briefly but one look at Ben Cartwright thunderous face and he finally broke down. "It was all Colvarre's damn idea!" He spewed in an angry rush. "He was mad about getting fired and Adam beating him up. He said you owed us. First he planned to sneak in the house and steal some money and stuff, but the Chinaman surprised him so...so instead he decided to steal a couple of your seeds bulls we knew were grazing in this area and sell them down in Mexico until Colvarre spotted Adam following us."

Adam scoffed jerking his pistol in front of Durham, who was practically sobbing now. "You're lying!"

"No! Please. I-I can prove it!"

"How?" Ben asked.

"One of the bulls is tied up down in the draw. Go see for yourself!" The man pathetically pleaded.

A few minutes later one of Ben's men came jogging back. "He's right, Mr. Cartwright. The bull's there just like he said."

"I didn't want to do it, I swear! It was all Colvarre's idea. He made me!"

Ben's jaw clenched and Adam felt sick with disgust. "Get him out of my sight! Take him into town and have the sheriff lock him up before I change my mind and string him up right here!" Durham, still pale and quaking, was hauled unceremoniously to his feet and led away.

Adam stumbled, the adrenaline, which had been fueling him up to now vanishing. His arms dropped to his sides as the sudden gravity of Durham's confession struck him. Someone _else _had taken Little Joe! Adam swallowed and for a moment he was unable to face his father. "Pa..."

Ben gripped his son's arm. Adam could barely get the words past is throat. "I'm sorry, Pa."

"It's not your fault, Adam. We'll _find _him. We'll get him back."

**TBC...**

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this latest chap. Reviews, as always, appreciated and keep me inspired to continue.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Sorry for such a long wait for an update. OC got a little busy and my kids were hogging my computer, lol. Anyway, rest of the chaps are nearly completed so updates should come a little faster. Thanks for your patience and support of my story.**

**Chapter 12**

Hoss paced back and forth, fretting with worry. He knew his pa had told him to stay put, but the thought of loosing his little brother terrified him. He just had to do something!

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen and saw the anxious expression on the youth's face. "You no worry. Father, Adam, bring Wittle Joe home safe, you see."

"Can't help it Hop Sing. We was supposed ta be watchin him. It's all my fault. I shoulda gone after them!"

"You save Adam from drowning. You come get father. You do all you could."

"Ain't enough. Ain't nearly enough!" Not when he knew his little brother was out there probably scared to death, hurt, maybe worse.

Hop Sing tried to console Hoss. He knew how close the two brothers were, how worried he was. Hop Sing felt the same way but tried to mask his own fears for the sake of the boy. "I fix you something to eat. Help take mind off worry till father come home with Wittle Joe." Hop Sing disappeared back into the kitchen.

But for once the thought of food was the farthest thing from Hoss' mind as the image of Little Joe and his abductor kept flashing in and out of his head. He'd only caught a glimpse of the man through the trees and hadn't gotten a good look at his face, but there was just _something, something _he was missing and it was gnawing at his brain ever since. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to concentrate. He'd seen Joe's legs kicking against a slim built frame and then a flash of a fair head...

Hoss' eyes suddenly widened!

The sound of the door slamming brought Hop Sing hurrying out of the kitchen only to be met by an empty room.

€#€#€#€#

"I'm fine, Pa," Adam insisted, pushing his father's hand, currently probing at the knot on the back of his head, aside before standing up. He swayed slightly, fighting back a wave of nausea. "We need to find Joe!"

A set of strong fingers closed around his forearm, halting him in his tracks. "You are not going anywhere, except home and to bed!" Adam jerked his head defiantly and Ben's already short temper flared. "A head wound is nothing to mess around with, Adam! And Hoss said you nearly drowned."

Adam met his father's retort with an angry shout. "I'm not going back, Pa!"

"This isn't your fault, Adam!"

Adam shook his head, his throat tight. "I should have been watching him, Pa! I should have been more careful!" Guilt and worry bled through the words.

"You're hurt. Injured. You need rest." Ben insisted.

"And what about Little Joe? Out there, possibly..." He hissed, refused to say the rest, refused to give into the idea of never finding Joe, or worse, finding him...Adam looked straight at his father, jaw clenched, head held firm. "I can't go back Pa. You know I can't. Not till we find him."

Of all three of his sons, Adam had always been the most reserved, hardest to read and gauge his emotions, unless it came down to one his brothers in danger and then it was very clear cut. A protective, black fury had settled in the younger man's dark eyes, eyes that grew darker with each passing minute. They mirrored the patriarch's own and Ben knew further argument would not dissuade his eldest from the course of action both knew needed to be taken.

Despite Ben's concerns for Adam's injuries, in the end, it came down to only _one _thing. Someone had taken Little Joe, one of their own, and _nothing _between heaven and earth was going to stop either from getting him back!

With a curt nod in acknowledgment and a sense of underlying pride, Ben mounted his horse. Adam and the rest his men followed suit.

Ben ordered two his men to take the wrangler Durham, already tied to his horse, into Virginia City - "For his own protection, before I change my mind." Durham glanced up into the chiseled, stone-set face of the senior Cartwright and shuddered at the meaning. "Inform Sheriff Coffee what's happened." They nodded.

That left Ben with two remaining men and Adam. Jaw set, the patriarch bellowed. "Let's ride!"

€#€#€#€

Hoss spurred his horse forward. He needed to find Pa and fast. Not knowing where else to start, he raced back to the pond, hoping to pick up the search party's trail.

As he was crested a rise just above where a back road passed through, Hoss reined his horse to a sudden stop when he caught movement in the brush across the way. A few seconds later, a single rider emerged. From his vantage point on the rise, concealed behind several large boulders, Hoss had a clear view as the man on horseback straightened from clearing a low hanging bow of a tree before turning onto the road. He gasped as he recognized the fair-haired rider.

It was Colby Flint!

The sudden sickening feeling that had entered his stomach back at the house when he had tried desperately to remember any of the details of the man who had abducted Joe and the image of the slim build and fair hair flashed through his mind suddenly increased by a hundred fold as he watched the bronc buster briefly look back over his shoulder with a twisted smile before kicking his horse into a gallop and heading down the road Hoss knew led back towards Virginia City.

Hoss watched him go, intent on following, but something inside made him suddenly hesitate. Instead he looked back to where Colby had come from and he frowned deeply. Once he was sure the man was out of sight, Hoss urged his horse down the incline and across the road. He paused, his keen eyes searching the ground. It didn't take long to find the tracks Colby had left behind.

The teen sat indecisive on his lathered horse. He knew he should really find his pa and Adam first, but something else was telling him to follow Colby's trail instead. Fear for his brother spurred Hoss' decision and he followed the trail.

Though only thirteen, Hoss, in his own rights, was a pretty darn good tracker. He had a natural keen eye for changes in the layout of the land and it wasn't too hard to follow the treks Colby had left behind. He followed the trail which eventually led to a small clearing and on closer inspection to what appeared to be an entrance of an old mine.

After tethering his horse out of sight, Hoss cautiously crept into the clearing. Scanning the ground, the first thing he noticed were several sets of footprints coming and going from the mine, some a little older than others, indicting the area had been used. Glancing at the tunnel entrance, he gnawed his lip for a moment before inching his way inside. When it became too dark to see properly, Hoss felt his way along the wall, wishin' he had found some kind of lantern or torch at the entrance to light the way. Though he was very nervous, not knowing what his was getting into, the thought of his little brother kidnapped and missing pushed his fears aside and kept him inching forward.

Somewhere up ahead he saw the faint flicker of light. He headed towards it trying to make as little noise as possible, not sure if there were others inside and at the same time glancing nervously back in case Colby returned. When he reached the source of the light, he found it to be a lantern sitting atop a small wooden box. Peering past the box, he gasped, for in the pool of musty yellow, curled in a ball, was none other than his baby brother!

"Little Joe!"

Hoss dropped to his knees before the small form. Immediately his anger flared when saw Joe's hands and feet were bound together, the emotion quickly turning to worry when he saw Joe wasn't moving. Reaching out and calling Joe's name with the same desperate voice as he had used when he'd seen Adam face down in the water, relief washed over him as he heard Little Joe's whimpered response.

Joe's eyes fluttered open as Hoss cupped the dirty, tear-stained face. For a second the six year-old's eyes widened in fear and jerked back at Hoss' touch.

"It's alright, Little Joe. It's just me. It's just Hoss. You're safe now, ya here?"

Little Joe's eyes welled with tears and he nodded his head. Hoss fumbled in the dim light, trying to untie the knots around Joe's bound wrists and ankles. He could feel Little Joe trembling uncontrollably as he struggled with the knots.

Joe let out a painful gasp as Hoss worked to remove the rope around his bound hands, realizing too late, the rope must be aggravating his already injured wrist. "Sorry, Shortshanks. Don't mean ta hurt ya." Once he had Joe's arms free he moved down and did the same for his ankles. He barely got the ropes off before Little Joe flung himself at Hoss, sobbing. The two brothers clung tightly to one other, one scared and in need of comfort, the other equally as scared but relieved. "Dun thought we lost ya, Little Brother." Hoss nearly bawled, unable to keep his emotions in check.

He then drew his brother slightly away from him, noticing the blood that had trickled down Joe's face from his nose. Renewed anger lit the boy's eyes. "He done hit ya, didn't he?"

Little Joe's eyes flooded with more tears and he nodded, looking pathetic and still very scared. Hoss dug into his back pocket and pulled out his hanky and wipe the blood off his face as best as he could. "We need ta get out of here, Little Joe, ya hear?" He helped his brother stand. Joe wobbled a bit but remained upright. Hoss wasted no more time as he started to lead his brother towards the entrance of the mine. They were nearly outside when the sound of riders approaching fast made Hoss pull back, forcing the two boys to retreat back down the tunnel. When they reached the spot where Little Joe had been left bound, they heard voices talking, one vaguely familiar, the other unidentifiable. They were followed by the scrapping sound of footsteps moving closer.

With nowhere else to go, Hoss pulled Little Joe deeper into the dark tunnel. He felt Little Joe stiffen and pull back when he realized Hoss' intent, so Hoss had to practically drag him along by one hand, while the other groped his way frantically forward in the nearly pitch dark blackness. About twenty yards or so down, the tunnel seemed to widened and split into several different directions. Hoss, without much preamble, pushed Joe down the nearest tunnel. Unfortunately they only went another twenty or so feet down before they ran into a dead end. Hoss tried to double back but froze when he suddenly heard cursing.

"Where the hell is he?"

"I swear, Quint, I left the boy tied up right here!" Colby said.

"You fool! You idiot!"

"He can't have gotten far."

"For both our sakes, you better damn well hope not! Come on." The boot steps quickened and grew louder, followed by more cursing and arguing.

Hoss backed up into the tunnel and crouched down low, pulling Joe close to him, his own heart racing in his chest as the footsteps grew closer. At the fork they paused and Hoss could just make out the hazy features of the bronc buster and the stranger in the light of the lantern held out in front of them. He felt Joe stiffen and tremble next to him.

The two men stood indecisive. When the lamp swung in their direction, Hoss shrank back and gripped his brother tighter knowing they had nowhere to go. They were trapped! A sudden sound in the opposite direction had the two men turn about.

"This way!"

Hoss only hesitated long enough to see the lantern light disappear down the other passage before grabbing Joe by the hand. As quickly and as quietly as possible, he backtracked they way they had come, moving back towards the exit.

When they emerged outside, both were temporarily blinded by sudden brightness. Squinting, Hoss wasted no time though and headed quickly in the direction he had left his horse tethered and concealed behind some scrub trees. However they only managed to make it halfway across the clearing before stopping short by the presence of a third man standing a few yards away, a pistol aimed at them.

"Stop right there!"

#€#€#€#'

Little Joe went rigid, his already pale face beneath the dirt and grim suddenly growing paler as he caught sight of the stranger...

_...Before he knew what was happening, he was being shoved into a cabinet, held in place by a hand pressed forcefully up against his chest. The man's face was inches from his own, distorted and flushed. "Not a word, boy, not a sound! Not to anyone, you hear, or you'll end up dead just like her."_

Convulsive tremors raked through the small boy's body and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. Hoss, gripping Little Joe's by the shoulders, felt the sudden changed in his posture and the shudders racing through the thin frame. He instinctively drew his brother closer to him. The stranger stepped forward, gun poised in front of them. Hoss pushed Little Joe behind him, shielding him. Though he was scared half out of his wits, Hoss was also angry, angry that these were the men who must have hurt Little Joe! He allowed his anger to build, fuel him past his fear. He stood upright, to his full height, his rounded, youthful features hardening, ready to pounce, to beat the man to a pulp, unconcerned about the gun aimed at him.

Then something strange happened.

The man's mouth opened, ready to shout out to his partners, but then stopped abruptly. He was staring at them, well more precisely, at Little Joe, huddled behind Hoss's girth, the only thing visible, the frightened dirty face of the young boy.

The gunman's face looked odd, pinched, indecisive. He glanced at the mine entrance and then back to the two boys, noticing they way Hoss drew Little Joe closer behind him. The man's eyes lingered on the small thin frame that clung to the older boy's leg. The bruised face, still smeared in blood from the nosebleed, gazed back in terror.

Something in the man's eyes seemed to hesitate. He suddenly looked as scared and as nervous as Hoss felt. The man stared down at Little Joe again and Hoss thought he saw something akin to guilt, pain?

Shouts echoed out from the mine entrance and grew louder signally Colby and the other man were coming back out. The sound suddenly seemed to snap the stranger out of his stupor. Eyes darted once more to mine entrance and back to the boys. "Go on, get out of here while you have the chance!" He hissed and waved his gun frantically. "Go on!"

Though clearly confused, Hoss didn't hesitate and quickly pulled Joe into a run.

€#€#€#

They hadn't gotten far, maybe a five to ten minutes head start before Hoss heard the single, echoed shot. He froze in his tracks. When he looked down he found Little Joe's hazel eyes wide with fear even as the small chest panted heavily in exhaustion. As much as he wanted to stop, Hoss knew they couldn't. He wasn't sure who had fired the shot, but his gut instinct was telling him not to slow down to find out.

Hoss tugged on Little Joe's hand again. "Come, Lil' Joe. We need to get outta here!"

They ran. Little Joe tried kept up as best as he could, but he was tired and hurting. He stumbled over a rock and fell onto his knees, landing awkwardly. Tears sprung to his eyes as he jarred his already re-injured wrist. Hoss tried to get him up, but Little Joe shook his head, sobbing. The boy was clearly hurting and exhausted.

Without thought, Hoss scooped him up into his strong arms and took off again. After several more minutes Hoss too was forced to slow down, his own lungs bursting for air. He set Joe back on his feet, panting, but the sound of horse's hooves and shouts not far away quickly had his head snapping up again.

"Over here!" he heard one of them shout.

Hoss looked around frantically. "This way."

He grabbed Little Joe's hand and led him towards a cluster of trees growing up alongside a grouping of large rocks. Without a backward glance, he shoved Joe through the space between the trees and the rock and then squeezed through the opening himself, a bit of an effort for his girth. Hoss ducked down and wedged them both in the concealed space a few seconds before the two men's voices rang out once again, this time much closer. Little Joe clung tightly to Hoss shirt, eyes wide and terrified. The thirteen year old wrapped one arm around his shaking brother's shoulders and held him close, trying to quell his own fear as the sound of crunching leaves drew closer.

#€#€#€#€

Cresting the rise Ben reined his horse to a stop as he heard the echoed rapport of a single shot. He listened, trying to decipher the direction of the sound.

"This way!"

They rode a little further until they reached a division in the landscape, one direction going off into a draw, the other winding around a rocky hillside.

"We need to split up." Ben indicated for his two men to head down the draw while he and Adam headed in the opposite direction. "If you find anything, fire three shots."

His men nodded and took off.

Ben and Adam worked the horses around the rocky barrier. When they reached the other side, Adam pointed to a set of tracks, two riders. It didn't take them long after to find the clearing and the entrance to the old mine. But it wasn't the mine that drew their immediate attention, but a man laying face down in the dirt.

Immediately both drew their guns and dismounted. While Adam stood guard, Ben crouched down and rolled the man over onto his back. The stranger's head lulled to the side. His face was waxy and pale. Blood seep from a wound to his side, staining his shirt and pooling on the ground beneath him. Ben reached down to check for a pulse, only to draw back as the man he let out a groan and opened his eyes. They blinked several times then widened as he saw Ben staring down at him.

Ben frowned, for there was a familiarity about the man, like he had seen him before but he could not quite place him. The man gasped in pain. "Take it easy," Ben said.

The man's bloody hand reached up and gripped Ben's wrist with surprising strength. Frantic eyes locked onto to Ben's. "Please, you need to hurry. Tried to stop them...The boy...I'm sorry..."

Ben gasped. "Where? Where is my son!"

**TBC...**

**Review appreciated... :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks everyone for being so patient and waiting for the next chap. And thanks for all the support and comments I had received for my story. It means a lot. It should only be a few chapters left to go!**

**Chapter 13**

"They have to be here somewhere! You go that way, while I double back around." The two men dismounted and fanned out.

From their hiding place, Hoss held Joe tightly next to him. They held their breaths as Colby's partner walked passed within a few yards of the trees they were concealed behind, so close Little Joe could see the man's face clearly through the lower bowed branches.

Little Joe was back in his nightmare of the man looking at him through the slit the cabinet and he trembled, clinging to desperately to Hoss, shudders wracking his whole frame. He whimpered, burying his face into Hoss' chest.

The man paused, listening intently. If he turned just a little more to the right he would have surely spotted them through the concealment of the trees.

Hoss felt his brother's terror and tightened his hold reassuringly, trying to hide his own fear. No matter what happened though, Hoss had already made up his mind he would protect Little Joe at all cost.

The man stood still for several more long seconds before letting out a disgruntled sigh and moved on.

Hoss waited tensely until he could no longer hear the crunching of leaves as the footsteps faded before dragging Little Joe out from their hiding place.

When he looked down Hoss saw the dirty tracks of silent tears running down the frightened boy's face. He got down on his knee and comforted Joe. "Don't ya worry, Little Brother. Hoss ain't gonna let nothing else happen ta ya, but we gotta keep moving', understand? We gotta find Pa and Adam."

At Hoss's conviction the small boy nodded and scrubbed the wetness from his eyes with the back of his trembling hand. Hoss smiled and grabbed his hand, and once more, they took off in a run. His only thought at the moment was to circle back around, back to the mine and hopefully retrieve his horse he hoped was still tethered out of sight.

They started down an incline. Halfway down Hoss' foot caught on a root buried in the thick carpet of leaves. Before he could catch himself, he tumbled the rest of the way down the hill, practically dragging Little Joe with him. He landed awkwardly and felt a sharp pain in his left ankle.

Little Joe was immediately at his side.

The tumble down the hill had made a lot of noise in the dry leaves and brush. In the distance he heard someone shout. "This way! Over here!"

Hoss scrambled to his feet but grunted as he tried to put weight on his ankle. He fell back down on his rear. Little Joe tried to help him up. "It's no use, Lit'l Joe. Done twisted my ankle."

The voices grew louder. Hoss grabbed Little Joe by the arm. "Listen. Ya gotta go on without me." The boy's eyes widened and he shook his head. "I can't run on this ankle, Joe, but you can run, get away."

Little Joe shook his head vigorously. Instead he tugged desperately on Hoss' arm, trying frantically to pull him up. Seeing Joe wasn't going to leave him, Hoss spotted a long stick nearly and told Joe to grab it. The boy complied. With the help of the stick, Hoss managed to haul himself up. Joe immediately got under Hoss' arm, vainly trying to support the older boy's much heavier weight. Hoss bit his lip, and together, they managed a painful hobble.

#€#€#€#

Colby paused, looking around the thick woods for signs of the two boys. He knew they couldn't have gotten far, especially on foot. He stood contemplating. Things certainly hadn't gone as planned, and Colby had grimly come to the conclusion this whole deal with Quint was quickly turning sour.

He had been okay with the idea of nabbing the kid for the money. It had been easy, but he hadn't planned on any killings. Quint's agenda had apparently been very different. Colby may be a con artist, a swindler, and a bit of a charming rogue, and though he had killed before, cold-blooded murder wasn't exactly his forte. Even if the supposed money for kidnapping a rich brat had sounded good in the beginning, he should have realized his snake of a cousin twice removed hadn't been totally on the up and up with him. Quint had obviously gotten into some trouble again, and it was apparent the kid had been caught in the middle. It become clear now, from the beginning, Quint had just wanted the boy taken out.

Irritably he continued forward in his search, half wanting to leave Quint hanging, but he still owed the bastard more than a few favors and with a resigned sign pushed forward, eager to get what had to be done finished so he could be on his way. He hadn't got far when he heard a racket in the woods and started doubling back.

It hadn't taken long to spot the two boys down at the bottom of the hill. The older boy seemed to be hobbling. He smiled and drew his gun as he shouted out to Quint.

€#€#€#€

Hoss and Joe hadn't gotten far when suddenly things got very chaotic. They heard someone shout. "There they are!" It was followed by gunfire and more shouts.

"Hoss, Little Joe! Get down!" Someone was then shouting.

Hoss didn't think twice but grabbed Little Joe and hit the dirt, pulling the boy into a small depression at the base of the hill. Several more shots rang out, and for several long seconds the exchange volleyed back and forth with the two younger Cartwrights boys caught in between.

And just as suddenly the gunfire abruptly stopped and Adam was there, grabbing Hoss roughly by his collar tugging him along backwards while Hoss held on tightly to Little Joe. They were both practically dragged across the open clearing and shoved behind a tree.

"Adam!" Hoss cried out in relief. "You sure are a sight for sore eyes!"

Adam looked down at his two brothers, eyes quickly scanning both of them for injury, before reaching out and cupping the back of Little Joe's head in relief and pulling him close. "Thank god!"

Little Joe fell readily into Adam's embrace, sobbing.

"It was Colby," Hoss tried to explain.

"I know."

Their reunion was short lived when a piece of the tree splintered next to them. Adam immediately pushed his brothers down.

"Stay there." He ordered.

Hoss didn't need to be told twice. He held Little Joe tightly as Adam returned fire.

It was then Hoss noticed a large bruise on Adam's check. He was panting and sweat was pouring down his face. For a moment his balance seemed to sway, his left shoulder falling weakly against the trunk of the tree. Hoss reached up, suddenly worried, remembering Adam's near drowning and head injury. "Adam."

"I'm all right! Just stay down, damnit!" Adam hissed.

From his vantage point Adam saw movement between the trees across the small clearing.

A few more shots rang out, though they didn't seem to be directed at them. Silence followed and then they heard Ben shouting their names and Adam answered back. "Over here, Pa!"

The senior Cartwright appeared moments later. Little Joe found himself gathered up in his father's arms and held tightly. Ben stroked his boy's hair, kissed his cheeks, before setting him down and intently assessing his other two sons, both now slumped against the tree. "Hoss? Adam?"

"We're okay, Pa," Adam assured, tired. Hoss nodded. "Yeah, Pa. I just twisted my ankle a bit, but I'm ok."

"What about...?" Adam asked.

"Colby is still out cold. The other one is back there." Ben thumbed gravely, the tone clearly indicating the man wouldn't be getting back up. His eyes then turned angrily to Hoss, pointing stern finger. "And you, young man, have a lot explaining to do!"

Hoss gulped, knowing he was in big trouble having deliberately disobeyed his pa. "I'm sorry, Pa."

Ben sighed, placing a hand on Hoss' shoulder. "But we will talk about it later, son. For now, I am just thankful you are all safe." He gathered Little Joe back up in his arms. "Now let's see about getting all of us home."

€#€#€#€

The next few days were busy. After returning back the ranch, Doc Martin and Sheriff Coffee had been called out. All three boys were confined to their beds until they were cleared by the family physician.

Hoss was the first to be let out, with nothing more severe than a twisted ankle and some cuts and scraps from his tumble down the hill. Adam was in bed for a few days longer due to his concussion and the development of a slight fever and cough. The doc attributed it mostly to exhaustion and stress along with his near drowning. Luckily the incident had no lasting damage. For the next few days he mostly slept.

Hoss visited Adam later in the afternoon of the second day and learned how he and his Pa had found them.

After Adam and Pa came across the man shot at the mine entrance, they had managed to trail the two men pursuing them. It had come as a surprise to Adam to discover one was Cody. His gun was drawn and aimed at Hoss and Joe down at the bottom of the hill.

Adam had managed to jump the bonc buster. A brief fight then broke out, but Cody had managed a lucky punch to Adam that had left him dazed. Just as Cody had scrambled back for his gun that had been knocked from his hand, Ben had appeared next to him and fired. The bullet caught Colby in his left shoulder and the impact threw the man backwards and down the hill, his body only stopping when he'd hit the base of a tree, knocking him out cold.

By then Colby's partner had spotted Hoss and Little Joe and started firing. While Ben kept the man at bay, Adam, now up, but still a little dazed had circled around and managed to drag Hoss and Little Joe to safety. He was just about to leave and help Ben, when the gunfire had stopped and Ben had shouted for them.

Hoss listened, impressed. He could tell Adam was still angered at how easily they had been tricked by Colby's charm, something that had nearly cost both his brothers lives. Hoss just wanted to forget about it and move on and focus on Little Joe.

Little Joe's injuries had consisted mostly of bruises to his face and the re-injury to wrist. Luckily nothing was broken and the doc had wrapped up Joe's wrist again and given the boy both something for pain and a sedative to help him sleep. Physically he would recover, but mentally Joe had once again been placed through a trauma, a trauma they weren't sure how well he would fare having been through so much already.

From the moment he had been found, to the ride back home and putting Joe to safely to bed after the doctor had ministered to his injuries, he had voiced not a sound.

As for Colby Flint went, he was currently spending his time in jail and Sherriff Coffee had been trying for the last few days to figure out the whole mess out. What he'd been able to gather, the dead man, Quint, had been behind the whole thing. On the third day, the sheriff came by and tried to explain it all to Ben, Adam and Doc Martin over coffee.

It seemed, Quint and the other man, Myers, (the man Ben and Adam had found shot in front of the mine entrance), were partners in a scam to milk Coronel Stottlemyer out of his wealth by marrying his daughter Rachael and getting the old man to invest heavily in land options and other shady ventures.

"But what has any of this to do with Miss Richards' murder, or Little Joe?" Ben asked.

The sheriff continued. Myers had lingered for a few days before succumbing to his wound. "Before Myers died, he was able to tell us quite a bit," Roy said. "Seemed he had a lot of guilt to get off his chest. It seems Miss Millie was once married to Quint. She had been quite young and foolish. Quint was possessive and abusive and after almost two years, she left him. Quint tried to get her back, but she disappeared. She and her father change their names and apparently moved here and tried start a new life."

Myers had told him Quint had spotted Millie one day in Virginia City, and recognized her. He was still technically married to her and fearing she would tip either Coronel Stottlymyer or Rachael off, Quint went after her. Myers followed, but got there too late. He didn't know the boy was there. Quint was enraged and paranoid, and determined to get rid of any witnesses. He and Myers fought and Little Joe managed to slip away in the commotion. Quint then ordered Myers to help find, threatening to kill him if he didn't. Myers found him first, but he couldn't kill a child and couldn't let Quint get a hold of him either. But he was scared of Quint, knew what he was capable of, so he did the only thing he could think of, he shoved Little Joe in the cabinet and threatened him to stay quiet or he'd end up dead just like Miss Richards.

At this, Adam clenched his fists, remembering the look in Joe's eyes, the fear when he finally found him in the cabinet after hours of being alone. Ben too was enraged and saddened that his son had to face such a horrible trauma, and that Myers threats and his fear of Quint had been so terrifying that it left Little Joe mute, afraid to speak.

Sherriff Coffee continued, explaining Quint was determined to find the boy. Initially, he thought Little Joe was Millie's child until he discovered the truth. He'd seen Little Joe in town with Adam and followed him. It didn't take much poking around to figure out who Adam and subsequently Little Joe were. But he had a problem. He'd already tried to nab Joe in the general store, but failed and knew it would be next to impossible to get close enough to Joe to nab him again on the ranch. For one, he knew Joe would recognize him and Myers before they could get close enough. Second, he was having some trouble keeping Coronel Stottlymyer and Rachael on the hook.

"So I take it, this is where Flint comes in?" Adam asked bitterly, having been completely sucked in by the congenial bronc buster.

The sheriff nodded. "Quint needed someone who could get close enough to Joe. Flint was a distant cousin and they had pulled a couple of con jobs off together in the past and owed Quint a few favors. Quint also knew you were looking for some hired hands."

"But our foreman, Hank, found Colby for us," Ben said.

"I don't think it would have been that hard for someone like Flint to arrange that. His actual work history checked out. He did work several ranches up in California and was a damn good bronc buster. It was just Flint's luck you were having problems with those other two yahoos, Colvarre and Durham. He used it, and his natural charm as an advantage, then just waited for the right opportunity to nab Joe. Flint, swears, though, at the time he didn't know Quint had killed Millie Richards or planned to kill Joe. He thought Quint was just going to kidnap the boy and hold him for ransom."

"Somehow, I don't quite believe that," Adam said cynically.

"Well, believe it or not, that the story he's sticking to for the judge."

Sheriff Coffee left shortly afterwards. Doc Martin stayed a little longer discussing Joe's condition. There was little else he could do for the boy other than what they were already doing. Joe's physical injuries would heal, but only time, love and patience would determine the rest. So far, Joe remained mute, his fear keeping him from using the voice all three Cartwright's longed to hear.

Ben escorted the physician out to his buggy. The doc climbed in. "Just be patient, Ben. The boy is strong, a fighter, but he is still just a scared little boy, right now. Don't push too hard, because you and I both know how stubborn that child can be and he'll only come around when he's ready."

Ben nodded, solemnly taking the advice, but his heart remained troubled. That night he slipped upstairs and sat for a long time on Little Joe's boy, watching the boy sleep. He'd been given a mild sedative again when Joe had become agitated.

Gently he brushed at the mop of curls falling over his son's face, thinking again how the boy definitely needed a haircut. The longer curls made his young son seem even younger and more fragile and he couldn't help but worry about his son's ability to recover. So much had been thrust upon the child that even in sleep, a slight frown marred his features.

At times like this his heart wished he still had Marie by his side. Like his two wives before, she had been the rock that helped him weather the storms. But Ben also knew he was never truly alone. He still had Adam and Hoss and he knew they boys would do all they could to help their little brother recover. It was one thing they always had going for them, their love for each other and the bond of their family.

**TBC...**

**(almost done...next chap will be updated soon)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Last Chap!**

**Chapter 14**

Two months past. The bruises and cuts had long since healed and even Joe's wrists had fully recovered. In the beginning Joe suffered re-occurring nightmares again, but they gradually faded under his family's love and support. Little Joe even began to smile again and for the most part was getting back to his energetic self, except for one thing. He still refused to speak. Ben was starting to worry some, wondering how this would affect Little Joe in the fall when he started back to school.

Ben also had other things to deal with, including Adam's preparations to go off to college. It would be a big adjustment for all of them, but despite how much he would miss his eldest son, Ben knew this had always been Adam's dream.

After Little Joe's ordeal though, Adam voiced his reluctance to leave, worried about his brothers, and about Ben being able manage the ranch without him. Ben knew part of this stemmed from his nervousness about leaving the home he had help build and going so far away, a larger part stemmed from Adam's guilt, feeling he was somehow abandoning his father and brothers, especially after Little Joe's ordeal.

Ben finally took his son aside and had a long talk with him, assuring him quite firmly, that he was perfectly capable of handling two energetic boys and the Ponderosa. He was, after all, a Cartwright. But more than that, he wanted to assure Adam he was making the right choice.

He placed a firm, but gentle hand on Adam's shoulder. "This is your time son. Your time to spread your wings and fulfill your dreams."

"But Little Joe..."

"Will be just fine."

"I just wish I could hear his voice again before I leave. I still feel guilty, Pa, about what happened."

"You have nothing to feel guilty about, son. You were there for him when he most needed you, and Hoss and I will be still be here for him when you go off to college. No matter the time or distance, or whether Joe ever speaks again or not, we will always be a family full of love. Don't dwell on it, Adam, just enjoy the time you have left with your brothers."

Adam nodded, knowing his father was right and in the weeks that followed before his departure, he did just that. He spent as much time with both Little Joe and Hoss as he could, wanting to savor each fun, annoying, and frustrating hour. Despite his continued silence, Little Joe's energy, enthusiasm, and spunk gradually returned making Adam laugh and driving him mad at the same time.

It was only the last week before Adam was due to depart that Little Joe became sullen, watching Adam pack with sad eyes. There was so much he wanted to say to his big brother, how much he was going to miss him, wondering if Adam would miss him too, but the words just wouldn't come.

The day before Adam was supposed to leave, they all decided to have a picnic down by the lake with family and friends. It was a glorious day and Adam took the opportunity to play with his brothers, chasing them about. It was a marvelous day, one Adam would treasure on his long journey back East.

Early the next morning, Adam was just loading one of his suitcases onto the buckboard in preparation for his trip into town when Little Joe came flying out the door, barefoot and still in his nightshirt. He practically barreled into Adam.

Adam lifted him up against his chest as Little Joe buried his still ruffled curls against Adam and snaked his thin arms tightly around his neck.

"Whoa. Little Buddy. What's all this about?"

"I'm gonna miss ya, Adam."

"I'm not leaving for a few hours yet." Adam chuckled, then stood shocked as he realized what he just heard.

He knelt down on one knee and pulled Joe slightly away from him. "Little Joe! You're talking!"

Little Joe's eyes also widened, realizing too what he had just done, before grinning from ear to ear.

Adam grabbed his brother up in an embrace again and spun him around. "You're talking! Pa! Hoss! Come outside quick!"

Ben and Hoss hurried outside. They looked at Adam, still spinning Joe around. "What's all the racket about! What the devel is going on?" Ben demanded.

He never seen Adam so...so...energetic...so giddy?

"Adam, stop! You're gonna make throw up," Little Joe said, giggling.

Ben and Hoss stared in shock. "Joseph?" Ben said in awe.

"Shortshanks? You're talking'!"

The boy giggled again.

"Say somethin' else," Hoss said.

"Whatcha want me to say?" Little Joe asked, blinking his hazel eyes curiously at his brother.

Hoss laughed loudly. "Dang, nab. We ain't dreamin'. He really is talkin'!"

"He sure is," Ben said, beaming, reaching for his son, who eagerly leaned over to be gathered up into his father's embrace. "And what a wonderful sound it is." He cuddled his son close to him.

Over breakfast Little Joe chattered nonstop as if a damn had suddenly been broken. It was music to the ears of each Cartwright and even Hop Sing, who dapped his eyes in his apron before darting off into the kitchen. None that morning had the heart to admonish the boy when he had talked through mouthfuls of scrambled eggs and sausage.

Later they all rode into Virginia City to see Adam off. At the stage depot they all gathered together waiting for the stage to be loaded. Little Joe, as usual, was bouncing anxiously about, much to the amusement and slight annoyance of his father, until Ben finally had to grab the boy by the hand to keep him from bumping into another waiting passenger, yet again.

Hoss grinned, and while they waited asked Joe. "So what made ya want ta start talkin' now, Shortshanks? Not that we ain't happy, little brother, to hear your voice again."

Little Joe suddenly became quiet and gazed at Adam. "I don't know. Guess I just didn't want Adam to go without saying goodbye." He slipped his hand out of his father's and turned to the big brother he had always looked up to, worrying his lip. "You...you won't forget me, Adam, will ya?"

Adam knelt down next to the boy who had always brought such energy and life into their family. He looked into the large hazel eyes, filled with sudden sadness. "Not a chance Little Buddy." He hugged the boy tight. "I promise I'll will write and tell you about all my adventures." He pulled Joe back and held his chin in his head "And while I'm gone _try _and stay out of trouble, little brother." He ruffled Joe's hair affectionately and Little Joe scrunched up his face.

After hugging the rest of his family and saying his goodbyes, Adam finally climbed aboard the stage. As the staged pulled away, he watched Hoss and Joe playfully bantering then heard Little Joe squeal as Hoss hoisted him up and over his shoulders and started tickling him. The last thing he heard was Little Joe's infectious giggles as he and his family waved goodbye.

**The End...**

**AN: Thanks everyone for reading my story. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review. Love to hear from you.**


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